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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 


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NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


> 


To 

MY LONG-TIME FRIEND 

t 

NINA G KEY L U N T, 

IN RECOGNITION OF HER UNSWERVING FAITH AND LOYALTY, 
THIS BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED BY 


THE AUTHOR. 


/ 

BY LEWIS H. WATSON 


(l.EWIS HARRISON) 

Author of A Strange Infatuation ” etc 


N0T Te THE SVIET 



ROW NOR* 

\Nt\_CY\, COMPKUN 

1891 


> 





COPYRIGHT BY WELCH, FK ACKER CO., 1891 


CONTENTS. 


Prologue 

CHAPTER 

I. The End of an Ocean Voyage, 

II. A Retrospective Glance, 

III. A Joyous Reception, 

IV. James Cateret, Stock Broker, .... 

V. Pertaining Somewhat to Heredity, . 

VI. Hugo Experiences a Set-back, .... 

VII. Madeleine Shows Her Business Qualifications, 

VIII. “ Davie’s Roost,” 

IX. A Study in White, 

X. “A Picker Up of Unconsidered Trifles,” 

XI. A Purely Business Matter, .... 

XII. Madeleine Trusts Her Secret to Two People, . 

XIII. A Test of Strength, 

XIV. “And Life was Never the Same Again,” 

XV. A Gentleman in Black, 

XVI. A Chapter on Finance, 

XVII. A Southern Salon, 

XVIII. A Champion of Champions, .... 
XIX. Mrs. Richmond Gives a Reception, . , . 

XX. Three Conspirators 


PAGE 

5 

15 

24 

34 

42 

50 

61 

69 

79 

88 

96 

108 

117 

125 

133 

142 

150 

158 

169 

177 

187 


CONTENTS. 


iv 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XXI. Mr. Cateret Meets Charles Kenner, . . . 198 

XXII. The Order of the Southern Cross, . . . 210 

XXIII. The Ball, 219 

XXIY. Doris in the Role of an Educator of Youth, . 228 

XXV. November 6th and its Consequences, . . 238 

XXVI. Madeleine’s New Home and Her Evening 

Visitor, 246 

XXVII. A Jesuit’s Oath, 254 

XXVIII. A Proposal, 264 

XXIX. War’s Alarms, 274 

XXX. Off to the Wars, ....... 283 

XXXI. The Union General and the Jesuit, . . . 292 

XXXII. Madeleine Makes a Discovery, .... 301 

XXXIII. Dr. Maginn Transmits a Warning and Imposes 

a Command, 309 

XXXIV. A Cabinet Meeting, ...... 319 

XXXV. Madeleine’s Arrest, 326 

XXXVI. A Prisoner of State, 335 

XXXVII. At the Front, 344 

XXXVIII. Old Capitol Prison, 352 

XXXIX. Madeleine’s Release, 359 

XL. Preparing the Victim, 367 

XLI. The Great Conspiracy, 374 

XLII. Its Culmination, 383 

390 


Epilogue, 


PROLOGUE. 


On a summer’s afternoon in the year 1883 I chanced to 
be sipping my coffee at Rumpelmeyer’s, just off the Lich- 
tenberger Allee in Baden-Baden. While lazily listening to 
the chat going on around me, I was attracted by the con- 
versation of two Germans who were discussing the merits 
of different summer resorts. “Were you ever at Baden- 
weiler ? ” inquired the elder, and apparently more travelled 
man of the two. 

“ Never,” responded his friend. 

“ Then let me advise you, if you want rest and quiet, no 
Americans or English, and a delightful picturesque spot, 
go to Badenweiler.” 

“Thanks,” I mentally responded, “ that is just the place 
for a Yankee to go, where there are no Americans nor 
English, and pass himself off for a German, getting the 
best of everything cheaply.” 

The next day I started for Badenweiler. I arrived at 
Mullheim at noon, and clambered into a “ buss ” marked 
Hotel Carlsruhe. The drive to Badenweiler, I found to 
be mostly up hill. In less than three-quarters of an hour, 
I, the only passenger, was whirled up in front of a very 
comfortable hotel. Before I had time to open my mouth 
in German, the portier addressed me in good English. 
Having spent several years at the University of Berlin, I 
spoke German well, almost too well I immediately made 


6 


PROLOGUE. 


my wants known in purest Teutonic accents; back at me 
came the inevitable English. 

<f Why do you speak English to me?” I inquired, exas- 
perated at his persistency. 

“ Why should I not, since you are an American ?” was 
the response. Crushed at this poser, I resisted no longer. 
He then told me that his position compelled him to speak 
all languages, and as he saw few English, he practised on 
every one he met. And I had forgotten that my trunk 
bore the legend, Chicago. My pride was appeased. I 
found the hotel all it promised. There were Frenchmen, 
Germans, and Hollanders, but no Americans, and few Eng- 
lish. The result was, I received proper attention, without 
exorbitant charges. 

The hotel fronted on a beautiful park, of perhaps ten 
acres, and the nicely-kept walks, with well-trimmed shrub- 
bery, profusion of flowers, and general aspect of extreme 
care, would lead one to fancy he had strayed unconsciously 
into the private grounds of some nobleman. The general 
appearance of this park betokened years of careful cultiva- 
tion. The massive lindens, elms, and chestnuts had stood 
there, perhaps, when the Romans occupied the place; for 
where the immense marble bathing pool is now was once 
an old Roman bath. At the left, and within the park, was 
an old ruin, overgrown with ivy and moss, and rising at 
its greatest height possibly one hundred feet above the 
Park walks. I was not long in penetrating its interior. 
A low-arched doorway with irregular and well-worn flag- 
stones introduced me to the conventional court. But I 
was for the top, and soon espied a narrow stone stairway. 
Up I climbed, and emerged upon the old battlements. 
What a glorious sight greeted me! In the distance the 
Rhine, a strip of silver ribbon, wending its way to the 
North Sea; below me the beautiful village of Badcnweiler; 
further down Obenveiler, and then Mullheim. Off to the 


PROLOGUE. 


7 


right on a clear day can be seen the spire of the old 
“Dom” of Fribourg, and the inhabitants claim to see 
Basel on the left, but Yankee eyesight was not equal to it. 
Back of me, as I looked upward, arose the Black Forest, 
inviting us in a five-minutes* walk to a seat within its 
cool shades. Here was the place where Bryant might have 
written “ Thanatopsis.” 

For an hour or more I sat on the topmost stone, and 
inhaled the cool air of the pines, watching idly the guests 
of the two hotels and numberless pensions , as they strolled 
through the park. Then came the sound of music from 
the “ Curhaus,” wafted up to me in faint waves of melody, 
and mingled with the cries of the children at play. Away 
hack in feudal times, this old castle had been erected. 
Somewhere about the twelfth century; hundreds of years 
before America was discovered. I tried to repeople its 
gloomy walls and narrow passages with the figures of long 
ago. What anxious maiden heart here beat with frightful 
violence, as peering over this battlemented parapet, she 
had seen an unknown mailed figure climbing up the glacis, 
and then another; then swarms; and her knightly father, 
with all his retainers — but a few old worn-out warriors — 
besieging the castle of some neighbor, miles away. That 
fluttering heart was long since stilled, and in its place, has 
come one from a newer civilization. A vandal hand dis- 
lodges a stone from the parapet, and down it rolls, just 
where the strange soldier climbed. Will it hit him ? No! 
but it came very near knocking down a red-faced German 
student who shouts : 

“ Donner wetter nocli mal, was ist los ? ” The traveller 
from the newer civilization creeps quietly down. 

The next morning, with an entertaining novel, I seated 
myself on a fine rustic seat on the terrace, overlooking the 
vineyards, some hundred feet below. Occasionally a stroller 
passes me. If a man, he says, “ Morgen,” if a lady, she 


8 


PROLOGUE. 


bows, or ignores me entirely. I return the salute if look- 
ing up. I only look up when the passer-by is young and 
pretty. The forenoon drags along, but not tediously. I 
hear the crunching of wheels upon the gravel walk, and 
notice coming toward me an invalid-chair propelled by a 
sturdy German servant in livery. The invalid is a lady. 
The chair approaches. I see she is not old, perhaps forty, 
not more. It is evident that her hair is prematurely 
whitened. Care and suffering probably. I am interested. 
The face is a remarkable one. It is white with the white- 
ness caused by long confinement. There are no wrinkles, 
the face is plump and beautiful, but that excessive pallor 
is strange. Its lines are fine; Canova himself could not 
have chiselled purer lineaments; but this blanched look, 
with those two sloe-black eyes, is weird. She looks toward 
me; now certainly I should have bowed, when just then, the 
clumsy oaf who was pushing the chair, ran it too close to 
the edge — while staring around — and in a moment, the 
occupant would have been pitched headlong down a fifty- 
foot declivity, had I not sprung forward and seized her 
arm; for she was evidently helpless. The stout fellow 
pulled the chair back, apparently in great trepidation, and 
began a string of apologies, which were quickly silenced by 
one look from his mistress. Not a word of terror or alarm 
had escaped her. 

“ I thank you very much,” she said in German. “ My 
man was very clumsy.” 

“More than that, madame,” I reply, “he was almost 
criminal; that fall might have killed you.” 

“Possibly,” she replied smiling; “had it been done out- 
right it would not have mattered much.” 

I was immediately interested. “ Is life so painful, then, 
madame, that you wish to be rid of it ? A moment ago, 
as I sat here I thought it delightful.” 

f( So I thought once, when young like you, and the po- 


PROLOGUE. 


9 


tency of life was strong within me; then I could not be- 
lieve I should come to this, almost 4 mattress grave ; ’ but 
this is nonsense. Again I thank you, for your kindly as- 
sistance. Go on, Heinrich,” and the white head bowed, 
the sloe-black eyes shot a glance at me, and again I was 
alone. Long after the lady passed me, did I reflect upon 
her remarks. All that day the face haunted me. Who 
was she ? She was not stopping at our hotel. Perhaps at 
the Romerbad. No, she was not there. Perhaps at some 
pension. Being an invalid, she does not like dining in 
public. I was finally compelled to give up the search. 

Several days afterward when I had come to fancy she 
had probably left the place, I saw her again. The orches- 
tra was playing in the afternoon, and the park was filled 
with people. Her chair was drawn to the side of a table, 
and she was drinking a glass of milk. I caught her eye, 
and received a nod of recognition, at which I raised my hat. 

"What! do you know the baroness?” asked my com- 
panion, Herr Schlesinger, a prominent merchant of Berlin. 

“ If you mean that old lady, with white hair, lieber Herr 
Schlesinger, I have a slight acquaintance with her; tell me 
who she is.” 

“ But you bowed to her, and she to you,” he replied sus- 
piciously. 

“ True, acquaintances begin easily here. I rendered her 
a slight service a few days ago and she acknowledges it, 
that is all. But who is she ? ” 

“ Why, that is Baroness Von Brinkmann. She lives at 
the Grand Duke’s villa on the hill. Her husband was in 
the suite of the Duke of Baden and was killed in the 
Franco-Prussian war. She is immensely wealthy, comes 
here every year, and divides the rest of her time between 
her palace on Wilhelm Strasse in Berlin, and her estate 
at Wiesbaden. You’re a lucky dog to know her, she is very 
exclusive; but you Yankees are always flying at the top,” 


10 


PROLOGUE. 


So this was all; married to a baron, who died in the 
war, and now a rich invalid; and I had thought she had a 
romance. After this, I did not see her again for several 
days, and when 1 did, she was resting on the same spot 
where I had first seen her approach. When I saw she 
noticed me, I brought my heels together with German 
military exactitude, and executed a low bow. 

To this she responded by a burst of merry laughter, and 
said in English : 

“ How long since you became a German, Mr. Harrison ? ” 

“ Gnadigste — I mean, madame, is it possible you are an 
American ? ” 

“l certainly am. I was born in New Orleans of 'poor 
but honest parents/ ” she replied mockingty. 

" Is it possible ? I was told you were the Baroness Yon 
Brinkmann.” 

"And so I am, Mr. Harrison; there’s nothing criminal 
in that, is there ? ” 

" No, certainly not.” 

'' You say that as if it were at least doubtful.” 

'' I never should have guessed you an American, madame. 
I see none here more to the 'manner born.’ ” 

This remark elicited a slight smile, which soon faded 
away. There seemed to be with this wealthy, titled, ele- 
gant invalid, a total lack of interest in the affairs of the 
day. Her appearance and manner seemed to say, "I have 
lived through too much. Every fibre has been strained to 
its utmost tension, in experiencing emotion.” There was 
a look of utter weariness about her, which won my sym- 
pathy; and from this day on, whether I found her being 
propelled by Heinrich, or resting in some quiet nook, my 
place was at her side. Gradually I won her friendship, 
and she became more confidential. I saw her eyes sparkle, 
and a look of intensity come over her face, which unfolded 
to me what a marvellously fascinating temperament must 


PROLOGUE. 


I 


have been hers, when young and well. I noticed that 
toward the ordinary guest she was reserved and dignified. 
When any of the German nobility visited the place, she 
was eagerly sought out, and treated with the utmost defer- 
ence. As yet, I had learned little of her early life; but 
one day I called at the ducal villa, and suggested a drive 
to the top of the “Blauen,” — the highest peak in the 
neighborhood. My suggestion was readily accepted. The 
night before had been a bad one for her. She had suffered, 
she said, intolerable pain, and her face was whiter than 
usual. As she was entirely helpless, as far as locomotion 
was concerned, with the assistance of Heinrich, I lifted 
her into a low droschky. The roadway to the top is steep, 
and the journey occupied considerable time. I questioned 
her about her sickness, and learned it all came by having 
been upset from a boat and being thoroughly chilled before 
she was rescued. From that date she began to lose the 
use of her lower limbs. I took occasion to say that my 
vacatiou was almost over, and I must return to America. 
Why did she not make the trip ? She might benefit by 
the sea air, and then she would also see her old friends. 
She shook her head. 

“ Ho, it is too late, I once thought I would go over, bu.t 
my father died last year, and I have no friends.” 

“ Oh, but it is not so long since you went away, I am 
sure you will find plenty of your friends alive,” I answered 
consolingly. 

“ No, I have no friends — America would hate me, if all 
were only known. No, I am ostracized, I have no country, 
but it is only just, I do not complain, I see things differ- 
ently now. Do you know that wealth is the natural foe 
of innocence ? ” Then turning suddenly her face toward 
me, she said, “ I know all these remarks seem strange to 
you. Do you know what it is to have a disposition which 
is so exceptionally selfish, that the world seems an oyster 


12 


PROLOGUE. 


to be opened only by you ? No love, no affection, no ten- 
derness; only ambition, greedy, insatiable, and unsatisfy- 
ing. Can you conceive that a human being can be so in- 
effably stupid, as to fancy that fawners and flatterers, and 
followers, make up the substance of a human life ? Do 
you know what it is to have the evil eye, and delight in 
its possession ? Oh, don’t fear,” she laughed quite merrily, 
"just double down your two middle fingers, and point the 
other two at me so — illustrating the Jettatura charm — that 
will exorcise the demon in me.” Somehow her laugh in 
the midst of this tirade seemed discordant. 

“ Gmidige Frau, I am sure you are too severe upon your- 
self. A mind so comprehensive as yours, could not have 
been led away by such sciolistic ambitions. I am con- 
vinced a night of suffering has placed you on the peniten- 
tial stool. But here we are at the top, and I can recom- 
mend the Emmenthaler cheese and beer, they have at that 
little inn over there.” The air was fresh and bracing, for 
we were five thousand feet above the sea level; and the 
view was a glorious one; the whole panorama of the Ber- 
nese Oberland was spread out before us. The baroness 
did not resent the flippancy of my remarks, and the cheese 
and beer were good, as I had promised. For a while she 
seemed animated, and to enjoy being there. She sat in 
the droschky — from which the horses had been unhar- 
nessed — and I leaned against the side of it and smoked my 
cigar. 

“ Mr. Harrison,” she said, after a fit of musing, “ I am 
disposed to do a foolish thing, to tell you the story of my 
life; it may entertain you as we rest here, and you have 
been exceedingly kind to an old woman with a past, which 
was long since buried, as I shall soon be.” I begged her 
to carry out her design ; and for two hours that woman 
held me spellbound with the recital. If the story I now 
relate is a sad one, if it has no redeeming features, it is 


PROLOGUE. 


*3 


because it is the story of .a life as it was lived. Such lives 
are being lived constantly, and no fiction can improve 
upon the tragic events they contain. The great world has 
no time to busy itself with personalities; but once in a 
while, a history crops up, so illustrative of misdirected 
energy and power, that the world is the better for the tell- 
ing. If in this recital I have seemed to treat the “ Order 
of Jesus,” with undue severity, it is because, as an order, 
it is becoming more and more prejudicial to the well-being 
of the Commonwealth. Expelled from every country in 
which it has found a foothold — at some time — it has now 
taken up its abode in America, and the warning I utter in 
these pages may, I hope, open the eyes of Americans to 
the peril which an over-confidence in the integrity of our 
Republic is leading us into. 

We are too trusting, too confiding. We rail at anarchy. 
It is nothing compared to the danger which threatens us 
from the hands of this politico-ecclesiastical order. Se- 
cretly and stealthily it is sapping the foundation of our 
Government. The pity of it is, that there is no recourse 
but in popular opinion. While we discuss anarchy and 
socialism, on our lecture platforms, in the newspapers, and 
at our homes; a deadlier enemy still, is penetrating every 
hamlet and village of this great country : Jesuitism. Under 
the cloak of Christianity, its fingers are meddling with re- 
ligion, politics, education, and even trade. It is useless to 
discuss this question with the Jesuits themselves. They 
look around you, above you, beyond you, smile complacently, 
and tell you you are mistaken. “ They are simply soldiers 
of Christ, fighting in the vineyard of the Lord.” They are 
learned, kindly, plausible, and attractive, but they are not 
citizens, they belong to Rome, and look to Rome for direc- 
tion. 

A few days after our excursion I departed from Baden- 
weiler. For a couple of years I corresponded at intervals 


H 


PROLOGUE. 


with the Baroness. Again in 1885, I found myself in 
Europe. When in Berlin I took occasion to call at her 
palace on Wilhelm Strasse, and there learned she was at 
A\ r iesbaden and very ill. I telegraphed immediately, and 
received a letter written in a tremulous hand, begging me 
to come and see her before she died. Two days after that 
I arrived in Wiesbaden. I found her indeed very low, 
almost unable to articulate, but her eyes lighted up for a 
moment, as I approached the bed; on the other side of 
which, stood a grave-looking elderly priest, to whom, in 
husky tones, she presented me. When I heard his name 
— Father Laujac — I must have shuddered, for I felt her 
hand clutch mine; her eyes were now dim, but I felt by 
the pressure upon my hand, that she desired me to lean 
down. I did so, and caught these words: “ Le jeu est 
fait , rien ne va plus ! ” That was all ; even at this solemn 
moment, she was a trifler with life. I raised her hand to 
my lips, pressed it, and left the room. She passed away 
the next morning, with her hand in Father Laujac's. 
After the funeral, I received a sealed packet, containing 
notes of her life, to be used at my discretion. Her great 
wealth went to the Church. Truly, “ the race is not to 
the swift/' 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE EHD OF AH OCEAH VOYAGE. 

Oh a beautiful spring morning in the month of May, in 
the year 1860, the Royal Mail steamer Persia, Captain 
Judkins in command, passed Sandy Hook and steamed 
slowly up New York Bay. Strange that one must needs 
go back almost thirty years to tell a story of our day. But 
the life that was young then, has just been lived out in 
these thirty years. A life so full of incident, so marvellous 
in its capacity for good and evil, so individual in its under- 
takings, so gifted, and yet so perverted, requires at least 
these thirty years to judge it correctly. 

It is passed now, the ripple it made on the ocean of life 
has gone on in ever widening circles; the eye can follow 
it no longer, but its effect is seized by the human mind, 
and followed to its ultimate conclusion. The success it 
made, and the results of that success, have been suggested 
in the prologue. 

In the days of which I write, no electric current flashed 
under the ocean, announcing the departure from Europe, 
or recording the arrival in America, of ship or steamer. 
Neither were there any “ ocean greyhounds,” making the 
trip so brief, that one hardly begins to recognize the faces 


1 6 


NOT TO THE SWiFT. 


of one's fellow-passengers, when the voyage is ended. Two 
weeks was a fair trip then. On this particular one, for 
fifteen days, had the good ship Persia pointed her prow 
toward the Western world. Fifteen days of sea and sky; 
fifteen days, to most of the passengers, of misery and 
wretchedness, to one of them, fifteen days of delight and 
joy; to another, fifteen days of suffering, and patient, 
stubborn endurance. The passengers were not numerous 
— it was too early in the season — but numerous or not, we 
have only to do with the two especially mentioned. One 
of these — which one, the reader will not long remain in 
doubt about — now stands resting her arm on the rail of 
the steamer, while she scans every bit of coast scenery, 
each passing sail, and even every little boat, in the evident 
desire to recognize somebody, or in the glad consciousness 
that all this savors of home, soon to be reached. 

Whatever passes within the range of vision, is noted, 
and seems of interest. The look on her face is intent, and 
she appears so absorbed in this scenery, that a young man 
who has approached her, evidently with the intention of 
speaking, pauses, and seems half inclined to retreat, and 
leave the young lady to her own musings. 

Madeleine Cateret, this young lady of the absorbed mind, 
is a beautiful girl; and as she stands there gazing out on 
the water with the fresh salt air blowing back her masses 
of black hair, and tinting her creamy skin with just a deli- 
cate shade of pink, she seems, and is, a queenly-looking 
creature. Noble indeed, is her tall erect form; not yet 
perhaps fully matured, but still womanly in its rounded 
outlines. A girl with those large brown eyes, now half 
veiled — as she peers out over the water of the bay — and 
that firm mouth and chin, was never treated in this world, 
otherwise than with respect. One glance at this face and 
figure commands admiration, a second inspires deference 
and regard. “ Not a girl to be trifled with,” would be the 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


17 


general verdict. What a wonderful thing one’s personality 
is! A new form presents itself to us, and instantly it has 
inspired us with fear, or regard, admiration, or dislike; 
the figure may not be symmetrical, and yet attract; it may 
be the highest artistic ideal is realized in its form, and yet 
it repels. Somehow we project into space an aura which 
is attracted or repelled by the aura proceeding from some 
other personality. Children, animals, and birds recognize 
this, as readily as we do. A parrot I have petted, coaxed, 
and fed, snaps at my finger, and allows a stranger to pet it, 
and stroke its head, all the time crying with delight. The 
phrase “ personal magnetism ” is an exceedingly unsatis- 
factory one to explain this phenomena. Madeleine Cateret 
was one of the fortunate individuals, who possess this 
faculty, and the young man who came up behind her had 
realized its power. 

"I beg your pardon, Miss Cateret.” Having spoken 
these words the young man was silent. Miss Cateret 
turned half around, and met the admiring gaze of the 
young man with a pleasant smile; this smile was a relief 
to the hitherto rather fixed expression on her face, and 
disclosed a perfect set of teeth, large and white, and wel] 
kept. 

“ Oh! it is you, Mr. Bernhard/’ and the eyelids just lifted 
the least bit in the world. 

“Yes, who else did you suppose it was, Miss Cateret?” 
replied Mr. Bernhard, a little put out at the tone of indif- 
ference. 

“ I really can’t say I had formed any supposition, I was 
thinking of somebody else.” 

“Oh! I noticed you were somewhat preoccupied, and 
feared to disturb you.” 

“ But you did, just the same, Mr. Bernhard. I don’t 
mind, however; I am rather glad, in fact, for I wanted 
some one to talk to.” 

2 


i8 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


"And I supplied the necessary person ? Thanks.” 

" Please do not get ill-tempered, for I am exceedingly 
amiable this morning, you see we are nearing home every 
moment; I have been wondering if papa will meet me at 
the pier, but I don't see how he will know, unless they 
telegraph from the ‘ Hook.' '' 

" Which they usually do,” interrupted the gentleman 
addressed as Mr. Bernhard, and then continuing : 

" I saw you were absorbed in some abstruse speculation 
and feared I might annoy you ” 

"And immediately proceeded to test the accuracy of 
that supposition,” laughed Miss Oateret. 

" I confess 'twas all a bit of selfishness, but we are at 
our journey's end, and I wanted to make a little sketch of 
you before we left the boat. If you will take the position 
you had when I came up, only don't look so frightfully in- 
tense, I think I can manage it,” said Mr. Bernhard. 

" You didn't dream I would pose for you, after having 
lost your temper, did you ? But I intend to be just as 
amiable as you were disagreeable. Is this the position ? ” 

" Quite right. Miss Cateret, only don't look down, as if 
you were trying to see a fish, please look out over the 
water.” 

Mr. Bernhard had perched himself on the rail, and was 
rapidly outlining Madeleine's figure. 

" May I talk ? ” inquired the young lady. 

" Only in answer to my questions.” 

" Do commence then, for this is stupid.” 

" Where do you live, in New York ? ” 

"Washington Square.” 

" Have travelling companions permission to call ? ” 

" That depends.” 

" I say. Miss Cateret, you can make your sentences a 
little longer, otherwise your expression will be too set. 
Now answer the last question in full, please.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


19 


“ It is permissible for travelling companions to call at 
Washington Square only, if they have a letter of credit, 
and are invited. How is that sentence for length, Mr. 
Bernhard ? ” 

“ Quite long enough. Miss Cateret. Please close your 
mouth, and turn your face a little this way. I will do the 
talking for the next few moments.” Scratch, scratch, 
went the pencil; Madeleine was becoming impatient. 

“ I am realizing that this delightful voyage is nearly 
ended, and when people have been cooped up for so long 
a time as we have, and exposed to all the perils of the deep 
together it might be pleasant to meet again ashore, and 
recall the exciting incidents of our ocean travel; let me 
say, also, that I have the ‘ letter of credit/ ” 

“And you have also the invitation,” interrupted Made- 
leine, “but I can’t agree with you about the reminiscences; 
the voyage has been anything but * delightful ’ to me. Do 
you call it f delightful/ to be as miserably sick as I have 
been, confined to my little seven by nine cabin, not able to 
sleep, not able to eat, disgusted with thinking ? Ugh! ” 

“Ah ! but you have been on deck, and quite comfortable 
at times,” said Mr. Bernhard. 

“ Yes, thanks to your kindness, I believe I did crawl up 
once or twice, and 'when I was up here, I wished I were 
down there. It’s no use trying to make believe I like the 
sea, I most positively do not.” 

“ How about sea acquaintances, are they ever continued 
on shore ? ” 

“ Really, Mr. Bernhard, I can’t say, you know I have 
only crossed once, and that with mamma, and we never saw 
any of the passengers after we left Liverpool.” 

Madeleine’s voice grew a little unsteady as she thought 
of the mother who, five years before, had brought her 
across the ocean, and died soon after her return to New 
York. 


20 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“But I am sure papa will be delighted to meet a gentle- 
man who has been so kind to me; the voyage would have 
been unendurable if I had had no one to talk with.” 

“ So I supplied the necessary person to talk with, Miss 
Cateret, I feel complimented indeed, that I could be of 
service,” came from Mr. Bernhard with mock humility. 

“ What unreasonable beings artists are,” said Miss Cateret 
laughingly. 

“ Imperial Caesar dead and turned to clay, 

Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.” 

“And so you think I saw in you only a f stop gap/ must I 
then pay you a deliberate, downright compliment ? Must 
I tell Mr. Bernhard what a charming travelling companion 
he has been ? IIow kind and considerate, ever careful, and 
always thoughtful ! Mr. Bernhard, you are absolutely ‘ hors 
de concours/ when you only sought f honorable mention ! 9 ” 

Mr. Bernhard's face flushed with pleasure, as Madeleine 
opened her great brown eyes and turned on him a look, he 
would have given a year from his life could he have pur- 
chased the certainty it was caused by interest other than 
as an agreeable companion. 

Was Madeleine Cateret a flirt ? 

Is any woman a flirt who uses the gifts nature has en- 
dowed her with, to win the admiration of the man she re- 
spects ? 

Madeleine Cateret had now been five years in France, 
most of that time at school. She was of French descent, 
having been born in New Orleans. Her parents on both 
sides were the descendants of French emigres and she 
certainly knew the secret of using all the wonderful powers 
of fascination, so remarkable among the women of her 
race. Strange that none of our scientific people have ever 
tried seriously to define or limit the extent of this power, 
as it exists in human and animal life ! Heidenhain and 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


21 


Binet would call it a mild form of hypnotism. That some 
occult power does exist, is incontrovertible. If we read 
history aright, we are constantly stumbling up against it. 
The fabled Basilisk, the “ stony-eyed Medusa,” both indi- 
cate what the early belief in the death-dealing potency of 
the eye must have been. But the power which makes 
friends out of enemies, which draws one to another, and 
holds the soul in slavish subjection, the invisible bond, 
which emanates from one, and enmeshes the other, what 
is it ? Intellect it certainly is not, for medical annals re- 
call the life of Hannah Purser, a scrub girl in a London 
Hospital, who “ set ” as she expressed it, everybody within 
her reach, even the grave professors; and when about to 
be reproved by the staid matron, “ sets ” her too, and the 
admonition which had been designed to check her way- 
wardness, ends in a smile of encouragement. 

Do we need to look long into history to find examples ? 

Mary, Queen of Scots, and Lady Hamilton, are illustri- 
ous examples. Aaron Burr was a noted fascinator, so was 
the first Napoleon, and Mirabeau. So are, and have been, 
hundreds in private life. We all know them. How often 
the stern parent permits the severest lecture to die on his 
lips before the star-like gaze of the fearless child ! 

These gifted ones of the earth, will not be denied, and 
the sternest judge of the most august tribunal, mitigates 
the severity of the sentence he is about to pronounce, and 
only regrets he cannot pardon, when under the influence 
of the subtle spell. 

Madeleine Oateret was one of these fascinators, and this 
characteristic continued through her life. 

The sketch was about finished, and Hugo Bernhard and 
Madeleine Cateret, leaned on the rail of the steamer dis- 
cussing its merits, when suddenly Hugo exclaims : 

“Ah ! there comes the quarantine boat in answer to our 
whistle.” 


22 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


They watched the little tug as it gradually drew near the 
big steamer, whose engines were stopped, when Madeleine 
in great excitement cried out: 

“ I believe papa is on that boat, Mr. Bernhard.” A mo- 
ment more and she waved her handkerchief, and a gentle- 
man whom Hugo could now see was a man somewhat 
beyond middle age, responded by taking off his hat, and 
waving it. “ Yes, it is papa, surely,” cried Madeleine, and 
she ran aft to where the captain stood. 

Hugo watched the little tug as it drew near the steamer 
and his attention was especially directed toward the gen- 
tleman Miss Cateret had indicated as her father. Mr. 
Cateret was apparently fifty-five years of age, looking 
plump and well nourished, his dress natty and indeed 
almost juvenile in its youthfulness; his face was smoothly 
shaven and he looked like a jolly, well-fed priest. 

It w’as plain to see he was a gentleman; his easy bearing 
as he came on board and greeted the captain and then his 
daughter, was charming. As for Madeleine, she threw her 
arms around her father’s neck and kissed him again and 
again. Hugo did not wish to disturb them, so he wan- 
dered off to another part of the deck, and waited a proper 
length of time for all questions to be asked and answered. 
Then he strolled back again, until Madeleine saw, and 
beckoned to him. 

“ Papa, this is Mr. Bernhard, who has been very kind to 
me on the voyage, and this is my father, Mr. Bernhard,” 
said Madeleine simply. Mr. Caterers face beamed with 
good nature, and he put out his hand frankly, and in a 
polite manner thanked Hugo for his attention to his 
daughter. Hugo disclaimed any obligation on Mr. Cate- 
rers part or any merit on his own. Miss Cateret had 
been good enough to permit him to talk to her, and the 
tedium of the voyage had thus been removed, he was under 
no obligations, etc., etc. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


23 


A general conversation ensued, and resulted in an in- 
vitation to Hugo to call upon them at Washington Square, 
which he thankfully accepted. When they arrived at the 
pier, the exigencies of the Custom House examination 
separated them without a formal adieu, and Hugo went to 
his hotel, and later the Caterets entered a carriage and 
were driven to Washington Square. 


24 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER II. 

A RETROSPECTIVE GLANCE. 

The Cateret mansion was situated in a portion of New 
York which if not fashionable, was at least most respect- 
able. Thirty years ago Washington Square was not dirty 
and grimy looking, was not covered with asphalt, and was 
not surrounded in every direction with business houses, 
compelling the constant passing and repassing of trucks 
and vans heavily laden with merchandise, drawn by im- 
mense shire horses. 

Then it was rather elegant, somewhat retired, and not a 
little stylish in its aspect. There were grass plots, and 
children and nurses were there; the air was comparatively 
fresh, and the trees and grass green. It was a bit of rural 
freshness dropped into a world of business; its influence 
was hygienic, its inhabitants rather exclusive. Private 
carriages with liveried servants drew up at the well- 
scrubbed sidewalks, and attractive-looking people entered 
and departed from the pleasant and rather elegant-looking 
houses which bordered the Square. 

These residences were mostly of the three story and 
basement order, not particularly ornamental in external 
architecture; within they were roomy and comfortable. 
In those days one’s furniture was not changed once a year, 
to suit every new craze of interior decoration, which cun- 
ning artists can devise, to gratify the pride of modern 
Sardanapalian femininity. Then everything was substan- 
tial, made to last; mahogany and walnut were the prevail- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


25 


ing woods used, and the furniture was solid. When you 
invited a friend to “ put his legs under your mahogany,” 
you meant it literally, it was no empty phrase. If you 
sought the comforts and elegances of life, then go to 
Washington Square, and look around you. Now, trade 
can say, “ nous avons change tout cela. ,y Yes, indeed, the 
comfort and elegance are gone, and in its place, noise, soot, 
dirt, and business. 

But in those good old days, among the many hospitable 
mansions in this quarter, none had a better reputation for 
comfortable, quiet, old-fashioned hospitality than that of 
James Cateret. 

Warm hearted, genial, and easy going, he had many 
friends and few enemies. If he had few distinguishing 
traits, which marked him as anything more than an ami- 
able, pleasant gentleman, he had almost no vices; he 
trusted men and women. Tell him anything, and he be- 
lieved it; his consideration for the veracity of his species 
was something touching. “ You don't tell me,” was a cus- 
tomary phrase, and it meant that he absorbed the informa- 
tion as gospel truth* he was a “man in whom there was 
no guile.” 

Mrs. Cateret was in every way superior to her husband, 
intellectually and morally she towered above him. This 
word, "morally” is introduced simply for euphony, for 
James Caterers morality was unquestioned. His mind 
was as devoid of evil as a child's, he did right because he 
could not do wrong, he was not an imbecile, nor a saint. 
The ethical side of his nature was so evenly balanced, that 
he toddled along in the rut of established and well-digested 
conventionality. Mr. Cateret was the negative embodi- 
ment of virtue. Mrs. Cateret was, as I have said, his 
superior. She had intellect, force, and power, her moral 
nature was under the direction of her understanding, thus 
her morality was positive, direct, and uncompromising. 


2 6 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


while “ poor James/* as she often called him, was one of 
the “good fellows’* of this piratical sphere. 

Mrs. Cateret fully realized this, and the fact that he 
would never be any different; she therefore constituted 
herself his protector and guide. 

Born and brought up on a plantation not far from Baton 
Iiouge, on the Mississippi, at his father’s death, as the sole 
heir, he had inherited the property, married Julia Marot, 
and settled down to a quiet planter’s life. Bad crops and 
careless management, for a number of years, caused them 
to discuss the question of selling the estate, and going 
north to live on the interest of the proceeds. This they 
finally decided to do, especially as Madeleine, their only 
child, was growing up, and they desired to place her in a 
good school. 

About the year 1850 the Caterets sold their plantation 
and moved to New York, Mr. Cateret buying the property 
on Washington Square. For five years, or thereabouts, the 
Caterets lived a pleasant, agreeable life in their Northern 
home. Mr. Cateret’s fortune was invested in stocks and 
bonds, paying at that time a good rate of interest, and he 
was aroused — if James Cateret could be aroused — when 
one morning upon visiting his banker he learned that 
some of his stocks had ceased paying dividends, and he 
had been eating a hole into the principal. No one but a 
man like James Cateret could have allowed such a thing 
to happen; to no one but a man of his careless habits, 
could such a thing happen and remain undiscovered. The 
denouement came about in this way. 

The usual notices had been mailed Mr. Cateret, regard- 
ing his balances at the bank, the same bank holding his 
securities; when he saw what his mail was, he tossed it into 
the fire, he didn’t care to know how he stood, it was a 
bother. “ I suppose it’s all right, those fellows ought to 
know,” he would say to himself. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


2 7 


One morning Mrs. Cateret picked up one of these no- 
tices, and read it over carefully, then she looked at her 
husband, who was busily engaged reading the morning 
paper. 

" Jamie ! ” 

“ Yes, dear, what is it ? ” he answered — Jamie looked up 
and saw his wife intently studying something. 

"What have you got there, Julia ?” he inquired. 

"Just what 7 am trying to make out, James.” 

It wasn’t "Jamie” this time, and Mr. Cateret began to 
feel uncomfortable. He had no " billet doux ” out, what 
had his wife got hold of ? 

Passing it over to him, she asked, "James, do you owe 
the bank all this money ?” 

Mr. Cateret looked at the notice, and saw that his at- 
tention was called to the fact that he was owing the bank 
a large sum of money; he had overdrawn his account. 

"Well, James, what does it mean?” queried Mrs. Ca- 
teret. 

"The Lord only knows, Julia, I don't, must be correct 
I suppose, those bank men are terribly accurate — I’ll go 
down and see as soon as the bank opens.” 

" I wish you would, James, this is too serious a thing to 
be trifled with, I thought we had enough to live on without 
getting in debt. What will happen to us if you go on in 
this way ? ” 

" I recollect now,” said Mr. Cateret, " Tatum said to me 
a month or so ago, ‘ better go slow, my boy.’ I didn’t ex- 
actly understand what he meant, I suppose now he must 
have thought I was drawing too much money.” 

"James, I don’t like that Mr. Tatum, I distrust him, 
and I wish you had never had anything to do with him.” 

"Tut, tut, my dear Julia, Tatum’s all right, stands A1 
in financial circles ; a little close perhaps, squeezes a dollar 
until the eagle screams, but sound, my dear, sound!” 


28 


NOT TO T1IE SWIFT. 


“ That may all be, dear, but for all that, I do not believe 
he is an honest man ! ” said Mrs. Cateret. 

“All prejudice, J ulia, all prejudice.” 

And James Cateret bustled around, asked unimportant 
questions, in fact exhibited a great deal of solicitude about 
trifling matters. 

This conversation disturbed Mr. Cateret more than he 
would acknowledge, and he determined without loss of 
time to sift the matter to the bottom, and ascertain where 
he stood. A spasm of virtue overtook him, and he reso- 
lutely picked up his hat and throwing his coat over his 
arm, sallied forth and wended his way to his bankers, 
Tatum & Driscoll. It did not take long for him to learn 
that he was living beyond his means; that certain stocks 
he held, were no longer dividend paying, and that for the 
past four or five years, he had spent thousands of dollars 
more than his income. 

This would seem incredible if it were not James Cateret; 
but this easy-going man was like an infant in business. 

Tatum & Driscoll held his securities, and had advanced 
him money, confident he would ruin himself, which he 
was in a fair way of doing. 

“ How is it Mr. Tatum never mentioned to me chat I 
was overdrawing my account, Mr. Driscoll ? ” asked Mr. 
Cateret of the junior partner. 

“ I don’t think Mr. Tatum knew it; you see he has little 
to do with running the bank. His capital is in here, but 
he does not know half of our depositors. I sent you, if 
you recollect, the usual notice; we were secured, and did 
not care to press the matter, since } t ou did not pay any 
attention to it. You can hardly blame us, Mr. Cateret.” 

“Oh, no, I don’t blame you, Mr. Driscoll, it was my 
stupidity, or rather my carelessness, which got me into 
this mess. What would you advise me to do under the 
circumstances ? ” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


2 9 


" Well, if I may suggest a plan,” said the banker, " I would 
sell off the now dividend-paying stock, square up my in- 
debtedness, and after this, live within my income.” 

"Good advice, Mr. Driscoll, capital, and what income 
can I expect from my remaining investments ?” 

A little figuring enabled Mr. Driscoll to say, " between 
four and five thousand dollars.” 

" This is also liable to vary, Mr. Cateret,” continued Mr. 
Driscoll; "it is no fixed income; you must watch your 
investments and occasionally change them as you see the 
necessity. By the way, why don’t you get into some busi- 
ness, and make your capital work for you ? ” 

" Easy enough to say that, Driscoll, but what do I know 
about business ? ” 

" True enough, as far as a mercantile life goes, but you 
know something of stocks and bonds ! ” 

" Yes, I do, to my cost, I think I ought to know more 
or less about them.” 

" Then why not go on ‘ Change/ Mr. Cateret ? Buy a 
seat, and try speculation.” 

Mr. Driscoll was evidently sincere, and the thing seemed 
feasible. It would give him occupation, and through the 
day he was apt to be a bit bored; in those days New York 
had but few clubs, and comparatively few gentlemeir of 
leisure. The upshot of the matter was, that Mr. Cateret 
went on " Change.” 

As he left the bank that morning by the front door, Mr. 
Tatum, the special, came in through a side entrance. Mr. 
Driscoll was evidently not surprised to see him. 

A lean, wiry man of about sixty years of age, with a 
leathery countenance, a hooked nose, and a chin which 
tried to meet it — a veritable Punchinello in aspect — was 
Mr. Tatum, but with none of Punchinello’s bonhomie; 
that grim mouth and the yellowish gray eyes were not 
made for mirth, 


30 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ Driscoll, I’ll take that stock of Cateret. Transfer it 
to my account, let him come in and make the transfer and 
clear up his hook. You gave him good advice, why don’t 
he take it and go on f Change/ he can't live within his in- 
come/’ And the old man tapped his snulf box and took a 
pinch. 

“ He’s a fool, a d d fool. When he wants to sell any 

stock let me know, Driscoll, and say, Driscoll, he’s got 
some C. & T. bonds I want. How did he happen to tum- 
ble into so good a thing? He’s got ten thousand and 
there’s not a bond on the market for sale; I want ’em, en- 
courage him to sell. I’m off now, must go on ‘ Change.’ •” 
And the wicked old man shuffled out of the door. Mrs. 
Cateret was right, Tatum was a great rascal. 

The next morning at the breakfast table Mr. Cateret 
was able to tell definitely to his wife the condition of his 
finances. 

“ It’s not a large income, Jamie,” sighed Mrs. Cateret, 
“and we must be very economical. Madeleine is now six- 
teen, and if we intend carrying out our original plan and 
send her to Paris, we ought to do it at once. There is that 
five thousand papa left her, when he died; Jacob Barker, 
the banker in New Orleans, has it you know, and with the 
interest it will be a great help.” Madeleine, a romping, 
black-eyed girl, came in just then, and the conversation 
wasr dropped, except that Mr. Cateret asked her how she 
would like to go to Paris to school. 

“ Oh ! that will be splendid, papa, I hate school here, 
the girls are all so stiff and proper, except Grace Richmond 
and one or two others; then none of them speak French 
and I shall lose all my knowledge of it, if I don’t speak it. 
Do send me to Paris to school ! ” And Madeleine danced 
up and down, and petted her father excessively. What an 
elf she was, with her rosy cheeks, and shock of black hair 
half grown, and never tied up, but tumbling in masses 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


3 


around her piquant face. She was long, lank, and bony in 
figure, but with a promise of being a magnificent woman 
later, and most bewitching in her manner, so that few 
could resist her seductive ways. So much for the Made- 
leine Cateret of sixteen. The affair was ultimately decided 
in this way, that Mrs. Cateret was to take her over, remain 
a while, until Madeleine felt somewhat at home, and then 
return. James Cateret was to go on “ Change.” While 
Mrs. Cateret was away, the house was to be managed by 
an old mulatto woman, “Aunt Sally," whom they had 
brought from the South with them. She had been bred 
in the family, had nursed Madeleine or “ Maddy," as she 
called her, and was heart and soul devoted to the Cateret 
interests. With her was a young colored girl, they had 
obtained in New York. Everything was carried out satis- 
factorily. Mrs. Cateret and Madeleine sailed, and Mr. 
Cateret became a stock speculator. James Caterers step 
of going on “Change" appeared to be a good one; under 
the advice and instruction of Mr. Tatum, he made a num- 
ber of paying investments, and increased his capital to its 
original figure. Mrs. Cateret, after some months’ absence, 
returned, and the household in Washington Square was a 
very happy one. Letters from Madeleine were frequent, 
and always cheerful; Mother Cornichon took a great in- 
terest in her, and it was plain to see from the style of her 
letters that mentally she was improving. Mrs. Cateret’s 
suspicions about Mr. Tatum seemed unwarranted, although 
she never ceased to think him unscrupulous, and to fear 
evil from Mr. Cateret’s association with him. About this 
time the panic of ’57 came, and things began to look blue; 
banks were failing, stocks went down, money was tight — 
the holders being chary about loans — and then came the 
suspension of specie payments. While the panic was at 
its height, came a worse calamity to Mr. James Cateret. 
Iljs faithful wife, his mentor, on whom he leaned like a 


32 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


child, was seized with a mortal illness, and within one 
short week he was a widower and his little Madeleine 
motherless. 

Happy, sanguine, and hopeful as he was, this prostrated 
him for a time. He withdrew temporarily from the Ex- 
change, and this was in a way fortunate for him. When 
he did return to business, he found his fortune greatly re- 
duced in size, the shrinkage in values being so great that 
his income was reduced one half. He could simply look 
on, and see ruin stare him in the face, without the power 
to avert it; he had no longer the clear head of his beloved 
wife to consult. 

Tatum had all he could do to manage his own affairs; 
for a year or two Mr. Cateret went on in a small way try- 
ing to recoup his losses. Tatum’s advice now seemed all 
wrong, and gradually he parted with one block of stock 
after another, and it all went to Tatum. 

Toward the beginning of 1860, James Cateret found 
that all that was left of the fortune he had brought North, 
was his home in Washington Square. Madeleine had now 
been away five years, and he determined to bring her home, 
and wrote to that effect. With all his losses, he was not 
soured in temper. I have said his temperament was sunny, 
it was so indeed. He always dressed well, held his head 
up, and looked prosperous. None could have told from 
externals, that life for him was not an easy one. He was 
a great favorite among his fellows, and when they wanted 
a “ good time 99 they always looked up Cateret. Fond of 
talking, a good story-teller, and rather convivial in his 
habits, he had many friends and few enemies. He went 
by the name of “ Windy Cateret,” but this did not mean 
anything disrespectful. He had a habit of puffing himself 
up, a sort of breezy inflation style, swelled out his chest, 
put his thumbs in the arm hole of his vest, in a word ex- 
panded. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


33 


One day Tatum came again with advice. 

“ Why don’t you put a mortgage on your house, Cateret, 
get a little money, and go into stock brokerage ? I’ll loan 
you a few thousand.” 

“Will you, now? that’s kind of you, Tatum,” said the 
innocent lamb, and so James Cateret became a stock broker. 

What a change this was, for the aristocratic Southern 
gentleman — to be compelled to go around soliciting busi- 
ness from his associates ! But he was volatile and it hurt 
him little. It was at least a half-gentlemanly occupation, 
he said. It wasn’t necessary to buy or sell across the 
counter, this he never would do. He soon seemed to fit 
into his place, and managed to make a fair income, but 
the loss of his wife, and his general habits, caused his 
money to disappear in a frightfully rapid manner. It was 
indeed time for his daughter to come home, for James 
Cateret was little more than a “ curbstone ” broker. What 
he made during the day, he spent at night. It was very 
simple, he had no cares to trouble him and plenty of 
friends to spend his money. With an airy indifference for 
to-morrow, he led a butterfly existence. Like the “ foolish 
virgins,” if he had no oil, he trusted some one would pro- 
vide it for him. Yes, it was well his daughter had re- 
turned. 


3 


34 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER III. 

A JOYOUS RECEPTION. 

After getting through with the Custom House, Mr. 
Cateret and Madeleine drove directly home. 

The first thing Madeleine saw, as she alighted from the 
carriage, was Aunt Sally on the front stoop, resplendent 
in a yellow gown, with a bright crimson handkerchief tied 
around her head in the form of a turban. There she was, 
dancing from one foot to the other and clapping her hands, 
only stopping to repress that “ imperant ” Millie, who per- 
sisted in essaying to balance herself on her head on the 
wooden rail, in the exuberance of her joy at seeing her 
young “ missus ” again. 

“ Lor bress her sweet heart, da she is, da’s my blessed 
‘ babby,’ de good Lordy’s brung her back to her ole Aunty 
again, Glory Hallelujah ! ” and clasping her “ babby ” in 
her arms, the tears rolling down her old cheeks, she kissed 
her again and again, and Madeleine was not slow in re- 
turning her caresses. 

“Jes’ like her mudder,” declared Aunt Sally, holding 
her off and looking at her. 

“Fo de Lord, she’s jes too buful,” and then another 
hug, and more kisses. Millie was not so daring, but just 
as enthusiastic, and they retired together to the kitchen to 
discuss their young mistress, and concoct the dishes she 
was known to favor. 

The genuine, unswerving loyalty of the Southern house 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 35 

servant of those days, has never been surpassed by any ex- 
hibition of fidelity in service either ancient or modern. 

The rest of the day Madeleine was monopolized by her 
father, for they had both many things to discuss, which to 
father and daughter were too sabred to admit of intrusion. 

The next morning at the breakfast table, which Aunt 
Sally had abundantly supplied with all the luxuries her 
“babby” liked; including broiled chicken a la bayou Pla- 
quemine, and corn bread of the most delicate golden hue, 
with delicious coffee such as only Aunt Sally could make, 
of 0. G. Java and ground figs, Mr. Cateret questioned 
Madeleine about her voyage, and especially about Mr. 
Bernhard. I have said sufficient in the opening chapter 
to show that Madeleine Cateret was no common girl. Not 
one spark of her father’s nature did she possess, she was 
all mother. She had his good looks, and here the resem- 
blance began and ended. 

Madeleine knew her father’s character almost as thor- 
oughly as her mother did, and from the first moment of 
their meeting, she asserted herself. From that instant, he 
never called in question any act of hers. As to his queries 
about Mr. Bernhard, she simply put them one side, men- 
tioning the fact that he was an artist, and she had invited 
him to call. 

Mr. Cateret’s pride in finding the awkward girl of six- 
teen, matured into a self-possessed beautiful woman, was 
evident in every act and word; he was exceedingly defer- 
ential, and sought her opinion in certain matters as readily 
as her mother’s before her. 

When he left for his office that morning, he placed in 
his daughter’s lap a box which Madeleine recognized as 
her mother's jewel box, remarking rather impressively : 

“ Your mother’s jewel box, my daughter, she left it with 
her warmest love to you ; I have not opened it since she 
died — it was her wish so — here is the key.” 


3 ^ 


NOT TO 7HE SWTFT. 


And taking her head between his two hands he kissed 
her, and left the room. 

Alone with the box in her lap, Madeleine did not at- 
tempt to open it; she turned it over and looked at it. A 
plain, ebony box, once her mother’s, and wondered at, and 
admired by her when a child, when she was always desirous 
of peeping into it. Now it was hers, with all its contents, 
and yet she did not hasten to examine it; on the contrary, 
she put it away, and made a visit to the kitchen to see 
“Aunt Sally.” 

“ Law sakes alive, chile, what brings yo here, in dis mussy 
hole, dis ain’t no place for you’ns, you‘11 get all dirt, suah. 
Here yo onery yaller gal, come outen dat w r ood shed an’ 
tend yer dustin’. Dat Millie, Miss Madeleine, is the most 
onery nigger wench I ever did see, can’t do nuffin wid her.” 

At this, Madeleine retired, resolving that shortly she 
would bring order out of chaos in that part of the house. 
A visit to other parts of the house was equally unsatisfac- 
tory; dust and dirt everywhere. The lack of a mistress’ 
presence was too evident, the servants had had an easy 
time of it for several years, and Madeleine smiled "when 
she thought of the changes she would make in the conduct 
of the household. Her examinations concluded, there was 
still that box to he attended to, and she confessed to her- 
self that her tour of the house had been an excuse to delay 
its inspection. Placing it on her dressing table, she un- 
locked and opened it; it was filled with little boxes and 
opening one after the other, she found the different arti- 
cles of jewelry which her mother had possessed so many 
years. She recognized each piece except two; a pair of 
large solitaire diamond ear drops, and a pearl necklace, 
both evidently very valuable. Last of all, in the bottom 
of the box was an envelope addressed, “ For my beloved 
Madeleine,” and within, was a letter which she eagerly 
tore open— -a letter from her dead mother. It read : 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


37 


“ My Precious Child : — For the first time in two days, 
I am for a moment free from pain, but the good doctor 
tells me this is deception, and that my time has come. 

“ May you never experience the agonizing regrets which 
now assail me, that I should not sooner, and more com- 
pletely than I can do now, have prepared you for this great 
change; I am too weak to write much. What I wish most 
to say is, try to take my place with your father, watch 
over him, protect him, he is weak and easily led, beware 
of a man named Tatum, do not trust him, nor allow your 
father to. I — cannot write more,” here was a blank, and 
then in a faint hand, “ Your Loving Mother,” was added. 

That was all. Her mother’s strength had evidently 
failed her; what she would have said, Madeleine could only 
conjecture. What a legacy to leave a child; the care and 
protection of her father, a healthy, active man, and she a 
girl of hardly two and twenty ! 

But these twenty-two years belonged to a girl with a 
head as clear, a judgment as sound, and a decision as per- 
fect, as if she were forty, and had the experience which age 
brings. 

Mrs. Cat ere t evidently knew her daughter’s character in 
intrusting her with this responsibility; knew she was equal 
to it. We shall see if she was justified in this. 

For a long time after reading the letter, Madeleine sat 
with her hands clasped around her knees on a low chair 
in her bedroom. Her eyes were fixed upon the opposite 
wall but she saw it not; all the faculties of her mind were 
engaged in trying to solve the problem her mother had 
set for her. She only needed a fillet bound around her 
hair, to realize the typical Greek maiden. Alma Tadema 
would have gloried in such a model; her features firm, 
clear cut as a cameo, her eyes large, soulful and intense, 
her hair, the crowning glory of her magnificently shaped 


38 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


head; what was there, what could there be, to add to the 
interest such a personality inspires ? At the moment 
nothing. She rises, and paces the floor, look at her! 

A figure such as a sculptor sees in his dreams, her face a 
poet’s ideal, her mind, what would it have been, had her 
surroundings been different, it is hard to say. Now a 
plastic, unformed, impressionable aggregation of cells, 
with no definite purpose, but stay — a new direction has 
been given to her thoughts by that letter of her mother’s, 
her hands were clasped behind her back, and her fingers 
were working nervously. How shall she carry out her 
mother’s ideas ? She has come home happy, joyous, ready 
to enter into all the gayeties of a large city, where she held 
an assured social position ; possibly marriage has entered 
her mind. At the threshold of all these possibilities, she 
is called upon to halt, her energies' are to be directed into 
a new channel, she has received a sacred trust to fulfil. 
Can she undertake it, can she accomplish it, can she, a 
young unformed girl, so guide and influence her father’s 
life, that both shall profit by it ? 

Finally the answer comes, “I both can, and will,” and 
from this on, the- softer lights, the sweeter traits of Made- 
leine Cateret’s character, suffered from the one absorbing, 
persistent endeavor to mould affairs, to meet her aim and 
gratify her ambitions. 

What she would have been under other conditions we 
cannot tell, what she became, we shall see. Hitherto she 
had lacked a motive in life, this was now supplied. The 
development was a gradual one, but with that character, 
it was as certain as the sun. The very carriage of the girl 
was changed, the jewels were replaced in their receptacle 
and carefully put away. 

A plan of action was immediately determined on. She 
must know the condition of her father’s finances; certain 
things which she had already observed, convinced her that 
they were not in the most flourishing state. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


39 


Madeleine did not refer to the box when she saw her 
father that evening; she had a little plan which she had 
concocted during the day which she meant to try on him. 
She recollected that in reply to a letter of hers asking for 
money, a short time before she returned, he mentioned 
inclosing a draft, but the letter contained none. She had 
borrowed a small sum from Mother Cornichon and this 
amount she had determined to exaggerate to see if her 
father could supply it. It was not a particularly bright 
thing to do, but she went about her self-imposed task in 
her own way. The sum she owed was one thousand francs, 
and when they were comfortably seated at dinner, she 
burst out with the remark : 

“By the way, papa, you recollect I asked you for some 
money before I sailed, and you spoke of inclosing a draft, 
you must have forgotten it, for I found none! ” 

“ Yes, my dear,” replied her father, nonchalantly, crack- 
ing the claw of a lobster he was eating, between his teeth, 
and picking out the succulent bit of meat, “ ye-s, I think 
I remember finding it on my desk, after I mailed the letter; 
I hope it occasioned you no inconvenience.” 

“ Not in the least, papa,” said the sly creature, “ I bor- 
rowed five thousand francs from Mother Cornichon.” 

“ What ! ” ejaculated her father, dropping his claw and 
wiping his fingers on his napkin, “you borrowed five 
thousand francs, come now, that is a good one.” 

“ Why, papa, your whole action just now would indicate 
surprise that I should borrow a little money when it was 
too late to hear from you,” said Madeleine in the calmest 
manner possible. “ I hope you do not think it improper ? ” 
“ Well, my dear child, I can’t say it was improper.” Still 
desirous to keep up the farce that he was a wealthy man, 
and feeling that he had in his daughter a person too acute 
to be easily deceived. “ It was not wrong, only the sum 
was larger than I liked my daughter to borrow from a, 
stranger.” 


40 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


" But Mother Cornichon was not a stranger, and I can 
send it back immediately, to-day if necessary, I don’t mind 
writing, although I am rather busy. If you will write me 
a check, papa, I will send it and apologize.” Her father 
looked at her, but the Sphinx was not more impassive than 
Madeleine’s face. 

" Foreign business, my dear daughter, is not done in so 
simple a manner. There are certain forms to go through, 
and I must ascertain what exchange is, whether to send 
sterling exchange, francs, or what.” 

"Oh! as far as that, papa, don’t trouble your head, I 
can do it. Just give me your check for a thousand dollars, 
and I will go to some bank, they will fix it for me.” 

° Here’s a letter for Massa Cateret,” said Millie bursting 
into the dining room at this critical period of their con- 
versation. 

Mr. Cateret opened the note. It read : 

" Please come to the office a little earlier than usual to- 
morrow morning. Gus.” 

He folded it up, and rising from the table, said, " you 
must excuse me, my dear, I have an urgent business ap- 
pointment to keep,” and hurried out. 

" In great luck that time, Jim Cateret,” he muttered to 
himself. "Whew! what a girl to deal with, she’s worse 
than a detective.” 

Madeleine laughed quietly, when her father had left the 
room. 

" What a godsend that note was to him,” she thought, 
" the alacrity with which he attends to business appoint- 
ments after business hours, is very commendable, but he 
shall not escape me in that way. He doesn’t know his 
daughter yet. I will renew the attack in the morning. It 
js cruel, I know, but it cannot be helped, he had better 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 4 1 

make me his confidant, for it will come to that sooner or 
later.” 

Madeleine did not see her father again that evening, and 
when she went down to breakfast, a line on her plate told 
her that he was obliged to be at the office earlier than usual 
that morning, and regretted that he must breakfast alone, 
“ without her fair hand to pour his coffee.” 

“ Very gallant indeed of papa to say that,” then a 
thought came to her, and going into the hall she searched 
her father’s light overcoat which he had not taken with 
him that morning. 

In one of the pockets she found the note he had received 
the preceding evening signed “ Gus.” 

“ Gus — that is the office boy — it is just as I thought, he 
had no engagement last evening, but dreaded my ques- 
tions. 0 papa, how silly; you only prolong the agony!” 

Breakfast over, she worked off her surplus energy on 
poor Millie, who certainly had no easy time that day. 
From cellar to garret, and back, curtains were taken down, 
woodwork was cleaned, and the Argus eye of Madeleine 
followed her at every turn. 

“ Gracious ! Goodness ! aunty, wat’s come over Missie 
Madeleine, she’s befo’ me, behind me, and she jes’ sees all 
the dirt in de whole house. Fse gwine ter brack my back 
stooping down and searching about all de cornerses. 0 
Lord ! ” And Millie sank into a chair quite done up, as 
the afternoon closed. 


42 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER IV. 

JAMES CATERET, STOCK BROKER. 

A small tin sign with this inscription ornamented the 
door of an office one flight up, in a rather tumble-down 
block, on Wall Street, not far from William. 

The single occupant of this office on a certain spring 
morning, in 1860, was a tall, awkward young man of 
twenty or thereabouts. In the distribution of gifts when 
this young man’s career was planned, beauty was forgotten. 
A large, inquisitive nose, somewhat liatchet-shaped, at- 
tracted instant attention to a face which, despite its irregu- 
larity of features, was not absolutely ugly. The eyes were 
small, gray, and deep set, or appeared so, for the lower part 
of the brain was bulging. Evidently, if phrenology were 
correct, nothing would escape the % observation of this young 
man. The mouth was large, and when opened to emit a 
grin — a habit the owner was addicted to, it disclosed a row 
of serviceable teeth, somewhat discolored by the use of to- 
bacco. The youth did not look well fed, he certainly was 
not well dressed. Augustus Duck was this young man’s 
name. The patronymic Duck, was an unpleasant one for 
him, notwithstanding the grandeur of his Christian name. 
His intimate associates would persist in calling him “ Can- 
vas Back.” Mr. Cateret called him Gus, but no amount 
of intimidation could persuade his intimates to think of 
him otherwise than as “ Canvas.” This apparent lack of 
respect was more apparent than real. His young compan- 
ions in the neighboring offices, or the street, took no liber- 
ties with “ Canvas,” There were two reasons for this. In 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


43 


the first place, this awkward lad possessed enormous physi- 
cal strength, and like most street boys (for he had grown 
up in the street) he knew how to use his fists. But more 
efficacious than this, as a means of securing respect, was a 
faculty he possessed of grotesque ridicule. 

The rude power of sarcasm which Gus exercised on all 
offending parties, caused him to be treated with unwonted 
consideration. Once invoke this unpolished weapon of 
Gus* armament, and the culprit was annihilated by some 
ridiculous comparison, or a name was attached to him 
which he found it impossible to shake off. 

“Jimmy, Jimmy, d’yer hear what Canvas called Scotty ? ” 

“ Naw.” 

“ lie called him a little sawed off choppin’ block.” 

Scotty was a thick-set young fellow who furnished kin- 
dling and matches, to the different offices. Having excited 
Gus’ ire one morning, he received the foregoing appella- 
tion, and it stuck to him ever after. The dread of some- 
thing like this, from the inventive brain of Gus, combined 
with the knowledge of his physical powers, compelled re- 
spect. 

Gus was never rude to his superiors, although inclined 
to be a little sharp, especially if he did not like a person. 
His good qualities were, his honesty, and his absolute de- 
votion to his employer; to favor whose business interests, 
he exercised a keen discriminating intelligence. 

The early history of Gus’ life, was the early history of 
the life of thousands of New York boys; he never knew 
his father to draw a sober breath. 

His mother slaved from morning till night, to support 
her two children, and finally worn out with the excessive 
toil, and the numberless beatings she received from her 
vagabond husband, succumbed, when Gus was fourteen, 
and little crippled Davie eight years of age. Two years 
before this event, the father had been killed in a drunken 


44 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


brawl, thus the support of Davie fell upon Gus; and nobly 
he responded. For a number of years he sold papers, and 
blacked boots, and then went to work as an office boy. He 
naturally gravitated toward “ Change Alley/"’ for he liked 
the hustling, bustling life of the locality — and then the 
pay was better. He gradually improved his condition and 
became a settling clerk. Familiar with the terms of the 
street, and invariably good natured, he was rather popular 
with the brokers who knew him. Mr. Cateret always had 
a pleasant word for Gus, and what was more natural than 
that when he opened an office, he should invite Gus to 
become his office boy, and general factotum ? And now on 
this spring morning behold Augustus Duck awaiting the 
coming of his employer. 

The office is swept and dusted, for Gus attends to all 
these matters, and now he had a little spare time on his 
hands. He is too restless to be altogether idle, and is at 
present engaged in trying to keep a couple of empty ink 
bottles in the air at the same time. One hand is placed 
behind his back, and the other is employed in juggling 
with the bottles. An unfamiliar step is heard on the 
stairs, Gus tossed the bottles into the waste paper basket, 
and with one bound alights upon his high stool, grasps a 
pen, and with his face close to the ledger, begins to run 
up a column of figures; said column having been footed 
up a month before. 

The door opened cautiously, but Augustus is busily en- 
gaged with his figures. The thin, wrinkled face of an old 
man is pushed between the door and the casing, followed 
by a shambling, shrivelled-up figure. 

“ Cateret in ?” squeaked a querulous voice from the old 
man’s throat. 

“ Not yet down, Mr. Tatum,” replied Gus, glancing over 
his shoulder at the visitor, although ]ie knew the instant 
he heard the voice who was there. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


45 


Mr. Tatum drew near the desk, and apparently endeav- 
ored to see what occupied Mr. Duck’s attention ; but the 
young man was too quick for him, and passing his hand 
under the cover he closed the book with a bang before the 
old gentleman could get a peep at its contents. 

“ You’ll blot that book,” said Mr. Tatum maliciously. 

“ J ust what the blotter’s for, sir.” 

s 

Tatum scowled; “ I don’t like jokes,” he gulped out 
sneeringly. 

“Never make ’em,” responded Gus complacently. 

“See here. Duck, what sort of a princely salary does 
Cateret pay you for your work here ? ” 

“ More’n I earn by easy odds,” responded Gus, now get- 
ting a little angry at Mr. Tatum’s sneers. 

“I want a sharp boy like you in my office, Duck, situa- 
tion permanent, what do you say ? ” 

“ I say that Mr. Cateret is the kindest man I ever worked 
for, and I don’t wish to leave him,” answered Gus. 

“Very well, when you get out of your job, you’ll be glad 
to come and see me, perhaps; tell Cateret I want to see 
him, will you ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” said Gus with a snap, and then as the old 
man closed the door : “ The old ‘ he baboon,’ I wouldn’t 
work for him if I could eat turkey all my life.” 

Soon after Mr. Cateret entered the office. 

“ Morning, Gus, what’s new this morning ? ” 

“ Mr. Tatum just called, sir, said he wanted to see you.” 

“Any one else ? ” 

“No one but Mr. Emory, he’ll see you on Change.” 

“All right. Say, Gus, what did that mysterious note of 
yours mean last night ? ” 

“ Why, Mr. Cateret, I heard a little talk on the street, I 
thought might interest you. I don’t go much on tips, and 
such like points, but this was so straight, I thought as how 
you ought to know it. It was just this way; you see, I 


4 6 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


went into Farish’s to get a lunch, and when I came out, 
I saw that big broker they call * Silver/ cause his hair is so 
light. He was talking with that fat fellow you always see 
with old Drew, neither on ’em saw me, leastwise they didn’t 
seem to. I thought I’d like to know what made ’em f buzz ’ 
so, and I just borrowed Davie’s blacking tools, and hump- 
ing myself up, I sang out, ‘ black your boots/ and got down 
on my knees, in front of ’em, ‘ Silver ’ says * go ahead, my 
boy/ and then they kept right on talking. I heard the 
fat one say, ‘ first thing after the market opens, let ’em 
have five, then offer ten more. I’ll have them get the news 
in half an hour. Then sail in, they’ll think liquidation is 
coming sure, I’ll give you the tip when to buy it in ! ’ 
That’s all I heard, for I had his boots shined, and they 
gave me ten cents and never suspected me.” 

“All very good, Gus, for a tip, but of what use is it to 
me ? How do I know what stock they intend to sell ? ” 

“Just so, Mr. Cateret, but you know * Silver’ will sell it 
on the opening; if he offers five, and then ten thousand 
shares, you’ll know that’s the stock for a certainty,” re- 
plied Gus. 

“That’s true, and I might take a flyer to try it; I’ll go 
over and see how things look.” 

The opening of the market found Mr. Cateret on hand, 
not far from “ Silver’s ” station. The market had hardly 
opened, when he offered five thousand Michigan Central 
which was instantly taken by some one; he immediately 
sold ten thousand more, and Mr. Cateret, taking his cue. 
sold five hundred, this started a stampede, and soon it was 
rumored that the dividend would be passed, and everybody 
began to throw the stock. By noon it had broken four 
points, and Mr. Cateret bought his in, making a clear profit 
of two thousand dollars. 

“ What made you jump so quick,” asked “ Silver ” of Mr. 
Cateret at luncheon, “ you were the first man to get on to 
that.” 


NOT TO TtiE SWIFT. 


4 7 


“ Oh,” said Mr. Oateret, “ I have been looking for some- 
thing like that for some time, I thought I saw it coming; 
all the 'same, they won't pass the dividend.” 

“ Think so ? ” "said “ Silver.” 

“ Of course I think so,” replied Mr. Cateret quietly. 

On the strength of this, “ Silver ” bought in his stock, 
and soon got word to buy in all he had sold. It was au- 
thoritatively contradicted that the dividend would be 
passed. 

When Mr. Cateret entered his office that afternoon, he 
held a hundred dollars in his hand, which he handed Gus. 

“ Give Davie fifty, and keep fifty yourself, Gus, the tip 
was a good one, and you have earned it,” he said. 

“ Thank you, Mr. Cateret, I wouldn't mind having such 
tips every day,” and he grinned and chuckled at the 
thought of what Davie would say when he got his share. 

As for Mr. Cateret himself, he was in the best of humor 
when he came down that night. He went around to all" 
the tradespeople and settled their bills, ordered a fresh 
supply of wine and cigars, and conducted himself in the 
most gay and debonnaire manner possible. 

Madeleine was instantly aware that something unusual 
had occurred, his whole bearing was so changed from the 
night before. They were hardly seated at the table, before 
he tossed her a check for one thousand dollars. Madeleine 
picked up the check and looked at it, and then at her 
father; his face was beaming, although he made every 
effort to conceal his happy frame of mind. 

“For Mother Cornichon,” he said, nonchalantly, "it 
might as well be paid, it don’t do to let such things run.” 

“Just my own thought,” said Madeleine, “business must 
have been good to-day, papa.” 

“Just fair, just fair, my child,” replied her father, with 
the greatest assumption of indifference. 

“ By the way, if you go down town in the morning, you 
can buy that draft, I shan't have time.” 


48 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ Very well, papa, what is "exchange’ to-day, shall I buy 
francs or sterling exchange ? ” , 

Mr. Cateret looked at Madeleine furtively, wondering if 
she were laughing at him. Not a muscle quivered in her 
face. 

“Oh, buy francs! They won’t cheat a woman, and a 
pretty one at that, eh, Maddy?” But Madeleine did not 
smile; her mind was busy revolving how she would confess 
to her father the trick she had played on him. She began 
to feel uncomfortable. There were eight hundred dollars 
which did not belong to her, should she return it ? How 
could she? She committed her first fault, when she de- 
ceived her father in regard to the amount she owed. She 
made a grave mistake when she so far forgot herself as to 
search his pockets for the note he had received from Gus. 
She continued this double dealing when she folded the 
check and put it in her pocket book. If this action of 
Madeleine’s was fatal to her fine sense of honor, and re- 
pugnant to her moral nature, none would have ever known 
it, so thoroughly imbued was she with the idea of success 
in her design to ascertain her father’s financial status. 
She put behind her all squeamishness, on the score of 
necessity; and determined to prosecute her inquiries to 
any extent necessary to attain the control over him she 
desired. Long and patient thought now convinced her 
that she must enter the arena of strife for the object of 
her pursuit, as a man, and no hesitation on her part over 
the scruple of womanly delicacy must intervene to thwart 
her aim. 

Under other conditions, the traits of character now de- 
veloping in Madeleine’s nature, might easily have been re- 
pressed, but the “ bloom is now off the peach.” The same 
requisites exist in woman as in man for the prosecution 
of similar undertakings. The trust bequeathed by her 
mother, was simply a stimulus, which aroused her dormant 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


49 


ideas, and while for a time, she gulled herself into the be- 
lief that it was all for her own, and her father's welfare, 
and her mother's dying request, she had devised this plan 
of action. She soon found, however, that grander schemes 
began to develop, and a boundless ambition to be the 
architect of her own fortune, found place beside the hum- 
bler, purer motives which actuated her at the outset. 

The next morning Madeleine had her father's check 
cashed, procured a draft for one thousand francs, which 
she remitted to Mother Cornichon, and the balance, eight 
hundred dollars, went into her jewel box for safe keeping. 

The campaign was now opened and she had decided that 
that money was the prime requisite, for its successful con- 
duct. 


4 


50 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER V. 

PERTAINING SOMEWHAT TO HEREDITY. 


One check always has, and always will, exercise a re- 
straining influence upon the perfect realization of the 
highest type of human development, mental and physical, 
and that is, the introduction of sentimental selection. 
Where this factor is from any cause removed, the law gov- 
erning reproduction has an opportunity to assert itself 
unhampered, and the result is a higher, ideal standard. 

When this selection unconsciously favors the law, the 
race is improved. 

Such a fortunate selection was made by Mr. Bernhard, 
senior, when he chose Dollie Mason for his wife, and when 
said Dollie looked on him with favoring glances. A spare, 
swarthy, dark-eyed man, he found in Mistress Dollie’s 
plump form, rosy cheeks, and blue eyes his ideal of a con- 
jugal mate. 

Moses Bernhard was an Hungarian Jew, a portrait 
painter by profession, and possessed of considerable talent. 
He came to America when a young man, and after wan- 
dering through various States in pursuit of his profession, 
he finally settled down in a small Connecticut town. Find- 
ing the demand for portraits somewhat limited, he fell in 
a way of decorating carriages, which put more money in 
his pockets, and brought more fame to his name, than if 
he had been a Sir Peter Lely, in artistic excellence. Fifty 
years ago, there were few railroads, and travelling by stage 
coach was the usual rule. Then coaches were often highly 
ornamented, and it required an artist of no mean skill to 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


51 


decorate the panels of the doors as required. A bit of 
landscape, or a marine view, with a ship under full sail in 
the foreground, tickled the fancy of the dealers in these 
coaches. 

Mr. Bernhard’s neat little sketches, quite suited the 
popular taste, and he soon found his services competed 
for, by rival companies, and constant employment at a 
high price was the result. He was shrewd enough to see 
that he had no rivals, and having the field to himself he 
found that he could earn more money than by painting 
portraits, even though his orders were limited. 

The desire to acquire wealth, quieted his artistic aspira- 
tions. And with prosperity, came the inclination to marry 
and have a wife to enjoy it with him, and finding none of 
his own race to choose from, he was compelled to be con- 
tent with pretty Dollie Mason, the daughter of a well-to-do 
farmer near the town. Mr. Bernhard met her at some 
husking bee or barn raising, and was immediately capti- 
vated by her bright eyes. 

Physically and mentally, they were opposites. lie, dark, 
thin, and restless in his movements; she, large, plump, 
with sunny hair and ditto as to disposition. He was in- 
tellectual, shrewd, and excitable. Dollie was not particu- 
larly talented in any way, unless it was in possessing an 
even temper, if that went for a talent. She was clear- 
headed, calm, and self-poised, and acted as a fine balance 
wheel to her nervous, restless, energetic husband. 

Two such people could not help but get on together. 
They not only got on, but they prospered, and their chil- 
dren were perfect specimens of physical beauty. Old Mr. 
Mason — Dollie’s mother was dead — soon saw his son-in- 
law’s efficiency, and furnished him money enough to en- 
able him to combine the building of carriages, with their 
decoration; and henceforth, Mr. Bernhard worked for 
himself. When Hugo, the oldest child was ten, and Doris, 


52 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


five, the Bernhards were fast acquiring wealth. About 
this time, old Mr. Mason died and left Dollie a comfortable 
fortune; this decided Mr. Bernhard to move to New Haven 
with his business, which was now assuming large propor- 
tions. He built a large carriage factory, and in ten years 
was computed to be worth almost a quarter of a million. 
The family became favorites in social circles, and an in- 
vitation to the Bernhard's was much thought of. Hugo 
and Doris received every possible advantage that money 
could procure, and the household became one of taste and 
culture. Of course much of this was due to Mr. Bern- 
hard; but Dollie Mason was not left behind, and at two 
and forty Mrs. Moses Bernhard was an elegant matronly 
woman, with a commanding presence, and a social suprem- 
acy which was undeniable. 

Both Hugo and Doris learned German from their father. 
Hugo took to his father's art, while Doris developed musi- 
cal ability of no mean order. 

Hugo graduated at Yale, and his father prepared to 
take him into business, but he begged to be sent to Europe 
to study art, and kindred sciences. Mrs. Bernhard threw 
the weight of her opinion in favor of Hugo's plan, and 
Doris coincided. So placing a generous sum of money in 
a New York bank to Hugo's credit, his father bade him 
God speed, and five years before the opening of the story, 
he became a pupil of Ary Scheffer, and later, fancying he 
he had some talent as a iiistorical painter, he changed to 
Delacroix. 

It was a fortunate circumstance for Hugo that the 
money was placed in the bank to his credit. To this he 
owed his long stay in Europe, for two years after he sailed, 
came the panic of '57, and Mr. Bernhard was terribly 
crippled in his business by losses. And had it not been 
for the kindness of his creditors, he would certainly have 
failed, His reputation for integrity and uprightness in 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


53 


business transactions was such, that without a dissenting 
voice, all voted to extend the time of his paper, and even 
assist him with ready money. 

All this Hugo did not know, for Mr. Bernhard forbade 
both mother or daughter writing the actual condition of 
affairs. He worked away harder than ever, determined 
that now his son had an opportunity to become an artist, 
he would not deprive him of it, although he needed him 
sadly at home. 

The family tried by retrenching all necessary expenses, 
to aid the husband and father in the struggle he was mak- 
ing. And the efforts of all were so far successful that 
when Hugo returned, there was no danger of failure. Mr. 
Bernhard had paid off all pressing obligations, and those 
now hanging on him were in the form of notes, extending 
for a series of years. Present anxiety was removed, but 
until everybody was paid, he could not consider himself a 
free man. 

Their coachman and gardener were dismissed, all un- 
necessary help in the house dispensed with, their beautiful 
home, built ten years before, was, however, retained, for 
Mr. Bernhard would not sacrifice it by throwing it on the 
market at such a time as this. 

He was determined to recover his lost fortune, and if 
his health held out, he bade fair to do so. Although the 
force at the factory was necessarily reduced, and he could 
take no large contracts as before, he still showed by his 
indomitable persistence and energy that prosperity must 
come again if his health were spared. 

He designed new forms for carriages, sent to Germany 
and procured the best decorators he could obtain, and 
strove in every way to keep the reputation he had made, 
for turning out the best work in New England, intact. 

Hugo had been expected daily, and one day Mr. Bern- 
hard came home flourishing a telegram from New York, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


54 

which he had just received from Hugo, announcing his 
safe arrival, and saying, “ home to-morrow night.” That 
night all was joy in the Bernhard household. 

“ I wonder how he will look, papa,” said Doris, " I sup- 
pose we shall hardly know him if he has grown a beard. 
How nice it will be to have him home once more, and I 
do hope he will bring a lot of pictures with him.” 

"What will you say to the boy, mother?” said Mr. 
Bernhard looking up from his evening paper. 

"I think I shall just hug him a good bit before I say 
anything,” responded Mrs. Bernhard, mother like. And 
shortly she retired from the room, and later in the evening 
Doris found her in Hugo’s room, putting things to rights 
in anticipation of its renewed occupancy by her boy. Mrs. 
Bernhard was very proud of her handsome artist son and 
if anything, there was a softer spot in her heart for Hugo 
than Doris. 

That this was true, she herself would never acknowledge, 
but in her heart of hearts, she knew it. Not that Doris 
was not all a daughter should be, but Doris was another 
Dollie Mason, only an improved copy, bound a little firmer, 
and indicating superior workmanship. 

Hugo resembled Mr. Bernhard as Dollie Mason first 
knew him, and besides being handsomer, he had a great 
deal more talent. 

Mrs. Bernhard had not forgotten those pretty sketches 
her husband used to paint on the coach panels, and here 
was a son coming back to her who could paint them even 
better. But strongest of all reasons, was the fact that 
Hugo in personal appearance resembled his father. 

And Mrs. Bernhard fairly worshipped her husband. In 
all the years they had lived together, she had not out- 
grown her girlish imagination; and respect for this for- 
eigner who had won her heart, had become greater and 
greater as she saw how he met reverses. She had loved 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


55 


him first because lie was strange to her, different from his 
fellow-men in appearance, talented and somewhat mys- 
terious. 

She never quite felt herself his equal intellectually, he 
towered above her; she was content to be his wife and 
silently worship. But here was her own boy, and no alti- 
tude to which he could raise himself, would make him 
other than her own son, and that son the living image of 
his father thirty years ago. 

Doris watched her for a few moments through the half- 
open door as she hummed a simple air while putting up 
the curtain. 

“ How happy it makes mother ! ” and no jealous reflec- 
tion entered her mind to mar her share in her mother’s joy. 

“ Mother, dear, can I help you any ? ” asked Doris, ven- 
turing into the room. 

“ No, ftiy daughter,” answered her mother, “ I am quite 
through now,” and she sat down on the edge of the bed to 
rest a bit. 

“What do you think father says, mother? He thinks 
he will want Hugo to help him in the factory, he is so 
short handed. Now, I think Hugo ought at once to set 
up a studio here, or in New York. He knows nothing 
about the business. I know more myself, I told father so, 
but he seemed to think differently.” 

“ My dear Doris, your father knows much better what 
is necessary than we possibly can. Much as I would like 
to see Hugo a great artist, I cannot forget how his father 
has slaved to keep him abroad. He is looking much older 
in the last year from his incessant worry over his business. 
Trust your father, Doris.” 

“I know, mother, but still I can’t see why Hugo should 
have his career spoiled because we want a little more 
money.” 

“ Do your father more justice than that, Doris,” replied 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


56 

Mrs. Bernhard, “ it is not the money he wishes, or at least, 
not so much money for us, as the means to clear up his 
obligations. Your father’s good name is to him of price- 
less value, and unless he can meet his paper when it is due, 
his mercantile standing is impaired. His creditors have 
been very generous toward him, and he does not wish to 
disappoint them ; besides, he has the ambition to build up 
the business to its former proportions, or even better than 
that, become the leading manufacturer in the State. If 
Hugo could only relieve him of a part of the burden, he 
might accomplish it; he has as much pride m this, as 
Hugo can ever have in his profession.” 

“ I know you are right, mother, but what is to become 
of Hugo’s art, if he remains in the office, and learns to 
keep books, and manufacture carriages ? ” 

"My dear child, I am as proud of Hugo’s talent as you 
are,” replied her mother, " but his first duty is toward his 
father, and if he can be of use, he must make the sacrifice. 
If he has genuine love for his art, and perseverance, it will 
only be a spur to his ambition. We can fix him up a 
studio at home, and he will find plenty of time to paint.” 

Doris shook her head unconvinced. She was proud of 
her artist brother, and felt that this mercenary plan — as 
she deemed it — would be a wet blanket to his aspirations. 

With one more glance around, to see if anything was 
needed, Mrs. Bernhard drew Doris outside the room, 
closed the door, and taking her by the arm, as if to em- 
phasize her remarks, she said : 

“ Do not, my child, try and thwart your father in his 
plans, that you may gratify any pride of your own. Hugo 
will be as much, and more, respected, if he turns to, and 
helps the father, who has been so uniformly kind all these 
years. You do not know what it has cost him to keep 
Hugo so long abroad, and he almost overcome by the bad 
faith, neglect, or inability of his friends to help him. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


57 


Think of your father, my daughter! ” And releasing her 
arm she permitted her to go, but not without a kiss of en- 
couragement. 

It was hard for Doris to relinquish her pet ambition for 
her beloved brother, but she knew her mother was right, 
and being extremely just herself, she forbore to press the 
matter further. 

The next day came, and with it, the much longed-for 
Hugo. Doris met him at the depot, but he was hardly 
prepared for the surprise he experienced when the little 
Doris he had seen last, threw her arms around his neck. 
He left her, in his estimation, a child, and here was a 
magnificent woman. He held her at arm’s length, and 
looked at her. 

" Well, Mr. Inspector, is the survey satisfactory ? ” laugh- 
ed his sister. 

" Very, indeed, my dear Doris, only I confess your mag- 
nificence rather astonishes me.” 

"Hot more than you do me, Hugo; you were a beard- 
less boy when you went away, and now you are really quite 
a man.” And Doris gave him another little squeeze, by 
way of emphasizing her delight. 

Doris was a fac-simile of Dollie Mason at her age; she 
had the same laughing blue eyes, the same fair skin as her 
mother. There was perhaps not so much suggestion of 
the dairy maid in her delicately-tinted cheeks, and there 
was an air of refinement, the natural result of improved 
social connections, but there was also that same magnifi- 
cence of proportions, which made Mrs. Bernhard so noble- 
looking a woman. What if her nose was a little broad at 
its base, or her mouth a trifle large for true artistic sym- 
metry; when open, it disclosed beautiful teeth, and dim- 
pled one cheek in a charmingly roguish manner. 

And Doris ! what did she see in her brother ? An ideal 
artist, as different from herself as if born of other parents. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


58 

All the antecedents of her father’s race shone out strongly 
in him. His eye — the true Hebrew eye — was gentle, mild 
and winning. It had sadness and fervor in its depths, and 
it could sparkle with fun, or light up with enthusiasm. 
And the Oriental type was maintained in his olive skin, 
and the dark luxuriance of his Vandyke beard. His form 
partook somewhat of his mother’s grandeur, but otherwise 
he was a Bernhard. 

Doris was enchanted with his appearance, and counted 
upon showing him off to her young lady friends with great 
pride. 

After they had entered a carriage, which Hugo noticed 
with surprise was not theirs, they were driven toward home. 

“ What has become of Thomas ? ” (the old coachman), 
asked Hugo. 

“ Oh ! we let him go, Hugo, father thought it was best.” 

Hugo looked at his sister rather inquisitively. 

“ I may as well tell you, Hugo, father almost failed in 
business and we had to make some sacrifices, and Thomas 
was one of them.” 

“And why was I not told, Doris ? ” 

“We did not think it necessary, dear Hugo. You were 
in Europe to study, and could be of no use here. So many 
of father’s customers failed, that he was almost forced to 
suspend; but his creditors were very lenient, and he was 
enabled to go on. His great want now is, capital enough 
to conduct the business properly!” 

Hugo heard all this in silence, and before he could reflect 
upon it, they drew up at the house, and were met by 
mother and father at the door, and Hugo experienced the 
hug his mother had promised herself. 

“Welcome home, my son,” said his father, and trem- 
bling with excitement he embraced his first-born and kissed 
him. His own youthful days returned to him as he re- 
garded this son of his, and the strong instincts of race 


Not to the swift. 


59 


came upon him, and he put up his hands and blessed his 
son as his own father had done years ago, when he left that 
little village in Hungary. The blessing had had its fruit, 
and now in his turn, he blessed his own son, returned to 
him after many days. 

Little more was done that evening than question Hugo 
about his trip ; and Doris established herself as interlocutor. 

“ Come, Hugo, tell us about your voyage over, was it a 
pleasant one ? ” 

“ Splendid ; it was stormy all the way through.” 

“And you call that a splendid trip ? ” 

“ Oh, I was not thinking about the weather, I am a good 
sailor, you know, I meant we had pleasant company.” 

“ Were there many passengers ? 99 

“No, very few, the season has not commenced yet, at 
least for travel this way.” 

“ But they were all agreeable, and that was certainly a 
fortunate thing in bad weather,” remarked Doris inci- 
dentally. 

“ I don't think I said they were all agreeable, my sweet 
sister.” 

“ Well, how many agreeable ones were there, Hugo, come, 
don't let me drag everything out of you. How many 
pleasant people were there; and who were they?” 

“Well, there were one or two, dear, enough to enable 
one to pass the time,” responded Hugo rather reluctantly. 

A prolonged oh! came from Doris, “one or two, who 
were they Hugo ? ” 

“ Why, there was a Miss Cateret, who has been at school 
in Paris for five or six years, a very charming young lady, 
I think you would like her very much, Doris.” 

“ Yes, and who else, Hugo ? ” 

“ Now, really, Doris, I don’t remember all their names,” 
replied Hugo, somewhat vexed at this cross-questioning 
before his parents. 


6o 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ So, Master Hugo,” answered Doris, considerably amused 
at her brothers description of the passengers, “ your boat 
load of pleasant passengers, has dwindled down to one. 
Miss Cateret; and the pleasure of your trip depended upon 
one solitary passenger! She must have been indeed charm- 
ing, to have so well entertained you through two weeks of 
bad weather. I hope I shall see this paragon of woman- 
hood.” 

“Come, Doris,” spoke up Mrs. Bernhard, “you have 
bothered Hugo enough about his fellow-passengers. Tell 
us something about Europe, Hugo, tell us how you lived 
there, and what you saw.” 

“ How, mother, you are almost as bad as Doris,” inter- 
rupted Mr. Bernhard; “let it all come out gradually; 
Hugo cannot sit down and tell us each day’s experience; 
but I am sure he can answer any questions we may ask 
him; and for one, I wish to know if he has brought us any 
pictures of his own ; how is it, Hugo ? ” 

“ I can answer that, father. I have perhaps twenty or 
twenty-five, which I brought over, and I must go back to 
New York in a day or two to see about them. I hardly 
know whether it is best to bring them here, or leave them 
in New^York and open a studio there!” 

Mr. Bernhard looked very grave at this remark of Hugo’s, 
but said nothing, while Deris fired off innumerable ques- 
tions at her brother, which kept him busy until midnight 
answering. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


61 


CHAPTER VI. 

HUGO EXPERIENCES A SET-BACK. 

When Hugo put in his appearance at breakfast the 
next morning, he found only his mother and sister. Mr. 
Bernhard had long since gone to the factory, and left word 
for Hugo to meet him there. 

His rather Bohemian life for the past five years had some- 
what unfitted him for the active business-like habits of his 
New England home; but a fond mother, and an admiring 
sister, found no word of reproach for his lazy indulgence; 
Doris was glad enough to hang around him, wait upon him, 
and ply him with questions. It was nearly noon when Hugo 
walked out upon the street, and headed for the factory. 
Eew whom he met, knew him, but occasionally he ran 
across an old school-mate, and was thus delayed, until when 
he arrived at the office, the noon bell was ringing. How 
well he remembered that twelve o’clock bell, which rang 
in the steeple of the old church near the shop. He did 
not doubt that old Favor who had rung that bell for twenty 
years every noon, still pulled the rope and f? set the bell,” 
as they called it. How often he had helped him ring, and 
wondered at the strength and skill which enabled him to 
whirl that monster bell, and balance it when half turned, 
hang it a moment, and then tilt it over and allow it to ring 
itself out. This style of ringing, distinguished it from the 
short, quick strokes which indicated a fire. Hugo gave a 
long sigh as he paused a moment, with his hand on the 
office door, and heard the last dying stroke. He seemed 
to have just thrown down his school books, and rushed off 


62 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


to greet his father, before going home to luncheon. Five 
years to him then, seemed almost a life-time, and in that 
one instant of recollection, how many youthful scenes 
flashed over the mirror of his mind! Boy he was no 
longer; had he not seen the great world, and sat at the 
feet of some of the world’s greatest masters ? This feeling 
was only a bit of sentiment, a sort of home-sickness for 
youth again, and its joyous irresponsibility. He opened 
the door and found his father in the act of putting on his 
coat to go out and get his luncheon. 

“ Good-morning, Hugo my son, I’m glad you came down, 
you can lunch with me, ” said Mr. Bernhard, his eyes 
brightening as he surveyed his handsome son. 

“ I’ll go with you, father, but as far as luncheon is con- 
cerned, I must confess to having but had my breakfast. 
Continental habits I fear are hardly suitable to your New 
England style of life. I must mend my ways now I am 
back home.” 

Meanwhile Hugo had assisted his father to put on his 
coat; and although the assistance was not required, the 
little attention was gratefully received by the older man, 
as it induced a feeling of satisfaction akin to gratitude, 
that the prodigal had now returned to relieve him of part 
of his wearisome burdens. 

As they passed along the street chatting of the changes 
which had taken place since Hugo’s departure, he noticed 
with pride the constant and respectful salutations his 
father received on all sides. And he felt gratified that 
he could claim such a man, with his strong personality, 
dignified bearing, and honorable position in society, as his 
father. On the other hand Mr. Bernhard was equally 
proud of his handsome and talented son, and if the truth 
be told, he took him a little out of his way, conscious that 
he was being observed, and his son’s appearance com- 
mented upon. They finally reached the quiet little res- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


63 

taurant where Mr. Bernhard took his daily luncheon — for 
the walk home and return would have occupied too much 
time — comfortably seated in a private stall, and the waiter 
dismissed with his order, Mr. Bernhard turned to Hugo. 

“ Well, my son, I am heartily glad to see you back again, 
I have you here to-day for a little talk, which I wanted 
alone with you. I suppose that you have already learned 
at home that my affairs have not gone on in as satisfactory 
a way as I could have wished, since your departure. It is 
only through the leniency of my creditors that I am not 
now a ruined man. When the panic came, I had a large 
outstanding indebtedness, and failure after failure crip- 
pled me, until I could not take up my paper as it became 
due. This has been extended from time to time, and al- 
though the amount now out, is largely diminished, I am 
still embarrassed, and obliged to sail close to the wind to 
get on at all. I need capital, which I cannot secure until 
my affairs are in better shape.” 

While Mr. Bernhard had been talking he sat with his 
arms resting on the table between them, and Hugo study- 
ing his face saw, that beside the gray in his hair and beard, 
which had been added since his absence, there was abun- 
dant evidence in his thin, wan face, that the struggle had 
been a hard one. 

As Hugo listened to the explanation of his father’s busi- 
ness troubles, he could not but remember the easy, idle 
life he had led in Paris, all unconscious of the worry and 
anxiety they were enduring at home. Not one word of 
reproach, not an intimation that he had been spending, 
while they had been saving, had he heard from any mem- 
ber of the family. Least of all from his father, and his 
voice choked with emotion when he turned to speak. 

“ I wish, sir, I had known something of this,” he said 
huskily, “ it was too much for you to bear alone.” 

“ To what good, my son ? ” replied his father, “ you went 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


64 

to Europe for a purpose, the money was provided for the 
undertaking, when I could well afford it; your studies 
were unfinished, and your presence here could have been 
of little use to me then, while it would have deprived you 
of opportunities you may never have again. The chance 
you had, I was never fortunate enough to have provided 
for me, for do not forget, that at your age I had my ideals 
in art, my ambitions, and my hopes. If I failed to realize 
them, the urgent need of earning money — not for myself 
alone — but for a poor old mother and father at home, 
must be my excuse. 

“ I often wished I could invent some way to live without 
eating; could I have done so, I might have done more for 
art. All this has been spared you, my son, and you have 
no doubt profited by this relief from anxiety about your 
subsistence. And now the most painful part of my com- 
munication to you must come.” 

Hugo pricked up his ears, wondering what could be said 
more serious than he had already listened to. 

“ I know you will be disappointed, Hugo, but I fear at 
present you cannot go on with your painting. The fact 
is, I am extremely short-handed at the factory, and my 
book-keeper is about leaving me for a situation where he 
can earn more money than I can afford to pay him. If 
you could take his place, it would be a great saving, and 
you would become acquainted with the business. I feel 
that my health is not what it was, and if I should be taken 
away there would be no one to conduct affairs properly, 
and your mother and sister would suffer.” 

Had Hugo been a girl, he would have thrown his arms 
around his father’s neck and begged him not to be dis- 
couraged. As it was, he put out his hand, grasped that of 
his father and said earnestly: 

“ I do not know how much help I can be to you, father, 
for I know so little about business, but tell me what I can 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


65 

do, I will try it,” and with a faint attempt at facetious- 
ness, “ if you are not satisfied, you can discharge me, you 
know.” 

“ We shall see about that,” smiled the elder Bernhard, 
“ but come, we must go now, I have finished my luncheon.” 

They had hardly left the restaurant, when Hugo heard 
his father's name called, and saw a gentleman across the 
street beckoning to him. Mr. Bernhard left him and held 
a few moments’ conversation with the gentleman and then 
returned with a puzzled but pleased expression on his 
face. 

" The gentleman who called me was Mr. Hobbs, presi- 
dent of one of our largest banks, and it really seems as if 
your coming back was to bring me good fortune. It is a 
strange order too,” he said musingly. Then addressing 
Hugo, he said : 

" He has received from his correspondent, at Charleston, 
South Carolina, an order, to place a contract for one hun- 
dred farm wagons to be done in three months. It will be 
a good thing if I can undertake it.” 

“ And why not undertake it ? ” urged Hugo. 

"Well, it will require several thousand dollars for stock, 
and I have no ready money, unless Mr. Hobbs will advance 
me something.” 

“ Will three thousand dollars help you, father ? I have 
yet that amount of the money you placed in the bank 
for me.” 

“ Indeed, Hugo, that will be just the thing. I will send 
an immediate acceptance of the order. 

“ You have not been extravagant, Hugo, and I am very 
much pleased at this help from you, but this order puzzles 
me; it is a queer part of the country for us to send farm 
wagons to, but Mr. Hobbs guarantees the contract. Well, 
never mind now, run home and see ‘the girls/” — Mr. 
Bernhard usually called his wife and daughter ‘ the girls/ 
5 


66 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


— " I shall be home early, and you can tell me about Paris 
and your artist life, it will make me young again.” 

Mr. Bernhard came home as he promised, early, and 
evidently in great spirits. He looked better than Hugo 
had yet seen him. 

“ Well, Hugo,” he remarked, “we shall commence to get 
out the stuff for those wagons to-morrow, the contract is 
closed.” 

" What has Hugo got to do with your wagons, father ? ” 
inquired Mrs. Bernhard. 

" Oh, Hugo has been taken into the firm, mother,” re- 
plied Mr. Bernhard very quietly, for he knew that if there 
was any opposition to his plan it would come from the 
mother and sister. 

" You don't mean that Hugo is going into the factory,” 
ejaculated Doris. 

" It looks like it, doesn't it, Hugo ? ” replied his father, 
laughing. 

" Very much;” laughed Hugo. " Have you got an extra 
pair of overalls, father ? ” 

"Hugo Bernhard!” blazed out Doris, "I really don't 
know what you are thinking of, to talk in this way. Is 
this what you spent five years in studying art in Paris for, 
to daub up the panels of a few carriage doors every day, 
at so many dollars a door ? Is this your conception of high 
art ? Is this the end of all your studies ? I suppose your 
great historical picture will be done on a stage-coach door! 
You needn't have gone to Europe for that.” And Doris’ 
face flushed, and her voice trembled in a way most unusual 
for her. 

" Don't get into a passion, Doris,” said her mother. " I 
have seen some ‘ daubs ' of your father’s on carriage doors 
which looked far more artistic than a great many pictures 
we see nowadays.” 

"I'm afraid, my daughter, that if it hadn't been for 


Not to the swift. 


67 

those early daubs of mine, you would hardly enjoy the 
comforts you do now. I regret as much as you possibly 
can, the necessity of Hugo’s going into the shop with me. 
I have not seen his work, but I know he has artistic in- 
stincts. He has had fine training, and ought to distinguish 
himself in h;« profession. If he has a true artistic soul it 
will not be buried in the factory; if he has not, he had 
better learn a bit of business. It will be well for him in 
the future.” 

While Mr. Bernhard was very quiet in his remarks, they 
all knew there was no appeal from his decision. 

Doris shrugged her shoulders, unconvinced. Hugo 
looked a little depressed, but after his morning's talk, he, 
more fully than Doris, realized that his father was not 
only just, but conscientious in his views. He was not only 
theoretically, but morally correct, and Hugo determined 
to forego his aspirations in the world of art, and woo the 
goddess fortune. Do not imagine the change was brought 
about through fickleness. Hugo was extremely sensitive 
to impressions; and when he listened to his father’s ex- 
planation of his embarrassed condition, and watched his 
worn countenance, he realized the heroic effort he had 
made to sustain his name in the business world, and keep 
his family in affluence. He felt that his work in art had 
been dilettante work. He lacked strong purpose, and tal- 
ented as he knew himself to be, he was wanting in origi- 
nality, He called himself a copyist, and while he judged 
himself harshly, he was weak in imagination and concep- 
tion. He had the quick perception, and vivid fancy which 
an artistic nature brings, and a warmth of color due to 
his Eastern ancestry, but things had been made too easy 
for him, a great stimulus was wanting. This had so far 
failed him. 

For the past five years his life had glided along among 
a class of men, for whom business did not exist. For five 


68 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


years he had lived in an atmosphere of thought, fancy, and 
passion. The change from this, to the study of what per- 
centage of profit he could extract from the putting together 
of spokes, and tires, and bodies of carriages, was a gre^t 
one. He could not all at once jump from the contempla- 
tion of a masterpiece by Horace Yernet, or Paul Delaroehe, 
to the study of the relative tensile strength of hackmetack 
or ash, or the propriety of striping this carriage yellow, 
or that red. 

He had admitted to Doris that he contemplated a grand 
historical painting, the death of Admiral Coligny. He 
had studied the lives and history of the Huguenots, and 
chosen the moment when the old Admiral was stabbed and 
thrown from the window into the court-yard. There was 
Catherine, holding back her son Charles, and peering out 
of the window to see if the deed were well done. And the 
crafty Guise urging on the hired assassin, and keeping 
back the guard hastening up at the disturbance. 

As he ran over the details of his picture with his sister, 
he sighed bitterly to think it could only exist in his imag-* 
ination. 

Doris consoled him as well as she could, determined in 
her own mind that Hugo should not bury himself in that 
carriage factory, if she had to teach music to keep him out 
of it. 

Open opposition she knew would not avail, for her 
mother would instantly side with her father, and Hugo 
himself would be difficult to manage, but there were more 
ways than one to work a woman’s will. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


69 


CHAPTER VII. 

MADELEINE SHOWS HER BUSINESS QUALIFICATIONS. 

Things could hardly be said to be going well with the 
Caterets since Madeleine’s return. Having recruited his 
confidence in his own abilities as a speculator, since his suc- 
cess on Gus’ “ tip,” Mr. Cateret plunged a little, feeling the 
necessity for more money now Madeleine was at home. 
He had more or less of the Southern pride of family, and 
expected to see her take a prominent place in society. 

The majority of their friends were originally Southern 
people, and most of them wealthy. 

The Caterets and Marots were highly esteemed in the 
South, and since their residence in New York, Mrs. Cateret 
had made a great many friends, and their position in a 
social way was well established at her death. 

Since then Mr. Cateret had rather neglected his social 
duties, and depended more upon his convivial broker 
friends for society. Madeleine saw, and meant to change 
all this; for since her return, all her mother’s old friends 
had called upon her, and her affable manners, and great 
beauty, had so won upon them, that she became a general 
favorite. The universal verdict was, that Madeleine Cateret 
was a very brilliant, and promising acquisition to the South- 
ern circle. 

Just at this time, the Southern people enjoyed in a re- 
markable degree a social status and following, conceded to 
none outside the old Knickerbocker families in New York. 

How this came about, could only be accounted for, on 
the ground that when one continually persists in assuming 


;o 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


a certain attitude toward society — especially when this as- 
sumption is backed by money, and an air of general su- 
periority — the public is apt to concede the claim, rather 
than quarrel with the claimant. 

Southerners in those days coolly asserted their title to 
the highest consideration, on the ground of descent; and 
Northerners acquiesced in the most submissive manner. 
Subsequent deductions lead one to the belief that these 
continual concessions in public and private life were made 
in the interest of “ peace at any price.” The yielding, 
pliant methods of the Northern statesmen in Congress, 
were carried into the social life of all our large cities, and 
to be a Southerner, lady or gentleman, was tantamount to 
saying, “ I am your social superior, and I demand an intro- 
duction into the first circles of your society as my right!” 

The Caterets had experienced the tidal wave of Southern 
assertion and arrogance toward Northern “ mudsills ; ” and 
like all the rest they believed it a case of “ noblesse oblige” 
when they consented to mingle with their Northern asso- 
ciates. Nor were they entirely to blame. Constant adula- 
tion, and persistent servility on the part of their follow- 
ing, certainly favored the presumption that they were cast 
in quite a different mould from those who basked in their 
smiles. 

Mr. Caterers temperament was rather too indolent a 
one for him to exhibit any aggressive partisanship in the 
controversy now very markedly exciting all parts of the 
country, both North and South. 

With Madeleine it was different. She had been edu- 
cated to believe that she came from a family superior in 
birth to her ordinary associates. She had all the South- 
ern woman’s contempt for Yankee traders. But there was 
one restraining influence at work, which prevented her 
yielding to its manifestation. She was pre-eminently a 
politic girl; and just now, it suited her to be on good 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


7 * 


terms with Northerners and Southerners. She knew that 
financially, they might need aid from both sides, and it 
was no part of her plan to alienate those whom she could 
use. For even thus early, had there begun to develop in 
Madeleine’s mind visions of power and position, which 
usually only come to older heads. 

The words of her mother’s letter were frequently in her 
mind, in which she cautioned her to "watch over and pro- 
tect her father,” as he was " weak and easily led.” She 
had come to feel that she must make her own way in the 
world, and the very fact that she had no one to advise her, 
fostered her naturally independent and bold spirit, until 
it became a steadfast fixity in her mind, that by the exer- 
cise of her cunning, wit, and beauty, she could mould for- 
tune to suit her ambitions. All she asked was opportunity 
to try her wings. She had learned this early, that black 
eyes, a white skin, and dimpled cheeks, were far better 
arguments in her favor than mighty thoughts. 

“ What fools men are,” was often in her mind, but never 
on her lips. As discreet as the Sphinx, as wise as a ser- 
pent, and as attractive as a siren. Young as she was, she 
seemed to have caught the accumulated worldly wisdom of 
all the cunning sisterhood of women of her race, who had 
gone before. This girl was no girl, she was a matured, 
self-poised, daring woman. Men liked her, and men were 
her natural prey; she liked them, because she could meas- 
ure her strength with theirs. Women she secretly despised, 
but even this she did not admit publicly. 

It was Mr. Cateret’s custom to have a few of his broker 
friends to supper evenings, and then have a game of cards. 
Madeleine was the life of these evenings, and — “ Going to 
Caterets’ to-night ? ” was often heard at close of “ Change ” 
on Saturday— for that was a favorite evening for such 
gatherings. 

These little affairs were rather expensive, but Mr. Cate- 


72 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


ret excused that, on the ground that he “ put out molasses 
to catch the flies.” Poor fellow, he fancied in his good- 
hearted, generous mind, he had a fine reason for his ex- 
travagance. But the fact was the flies managed to carry 
away more than they left behind. And along in July, one 
night Mr. Cateret came home looking unusually depressed, 
at least for him. 

Madeleine watched him for a while, and then as a test 
question asked him if he had invited any one that night. 

“Well, yes, I am afraid I have,” he sighed. 

“ Why, what’s the matter, papa, you look quite low spir- 
ited, you are not ill ? ” 

“ Oh, dear no ” (this rather petulantly), “ only I wish 
the fellows weren’t coming to-night.” 

“ Now papa,” said Madeleine, sitting down beside him 
and looking him directly in the eye, “ you may as well tell 
me what all these long-drawn sighs mean, I shall soon find 
out if you don’t, so out with it.” 

“ They mean simply this, my dear, that I am in a deuce 
of a hole, and can’t see my way out.” 

“ That is no explanation. Is it the market ? You know 
I have learned more or less about how things are going. I 
haven’t listened to all this talk about ‘puts and calls’ 
and ‘points,’ and ‘jags,’ and ‘longs and shorts,’ for 
nothing. I think I could go on the market and speculate 
myself. One thing I know I ivouldn’t do, and that is, listen 
to all the twaddle of every petty little fellow who buys and 
sells a hundred shares, and thinks he has the secret of the 
market.” 

“Well, Maddy, I must confess you talk as if you had 
been on the market all your life, what’s Erie ? ” 

“The common was 25 yesterday,” came quick as a flash 
from Madeleine. 

“ How did you learn that ? ” 

“Oh! I look over the market reports occasionally.” 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 73 

She pored over them, studied them, learned them by 
heart. 

“ Well, that’s a good one, I almost wish you were a boy, 
Maddy,” said her father regretfully. 

“ I wish I were, from the bottom of my heart, for your 
sake, papa; but as for mine, I am content to be a woman, 
and although I am a woman, I will tell you something 
about the market. The time is coming soon to sell stocks.” 

“ Nonsense, Maddy, there’s where you’re wrong, Lincoln 
I am sure will be elected, and all will have a boom.” 

" Temporarily, possibly, but this very election will hasten 
the event I speak of. I am sure a civil war is coming, al- 
though, like many others, you will not believe it. Did you 
read what the Atlanta Constitution said last week ? ” 

" No, what was it, Maddy ? ” he asked, open-eyed, his re- 
spect for his daughter’s wisdom increasing as she talked. 

" It was something like this. ‘ Why should we be tied 
forever to the North? We are independent States. We 
can manage our own affairs, and we will not tolerate any 
interference. We have our sugar, our corn, our cotton and 
our negroes; we have our homes also. Let the North go. 
Peaceably if they will, if not, we will compel a separation.’ 
Papa, they mean it, you know our Southern people are 
hot blooded. The war is sure to come, I know the North 
will not let us go, and there will be a contest.” 

Mr. Cateret was quite carried away by Madeleine’s words. 

"By Jove! Maddy, I believe you are right, but I hope 
not.” 

"I am glad you admit my head is worth something, 
papa. But don’t run off now and sell stocks; the time 
hasn’t come, think it over, and now tell me why you came 
home so blue.” 

“ I don’t mind telling you, my dear, for since you have 
such a head” (Madeleine smiled a little) "you may advise 
me. I borrowed a year ago of Tatum, eight thousand 


74 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


dollars on the house. Business has been dull, and I have 
no money to pay with. Tatum says he must have his 
money, and interest, it amounts to about nine thousand 
altogether. 

" What is the house worth, papa ? ” asked Madeleine. 

" I paid fifteen thousand for it, and it is worth as much 
now.” 

"I don’t see why you need worry about Mr. Tatum’s 
wants then.” 

" How is that, Maddy ? ” 

" Why, there must be plenty of people who would loan 
that amount of money on a house worth fifteen thousand 
dollars.” 

" It would seem so, but Tatum says property has depre- 
ciated since the panic, and he wouldn’t loan more than six 
now.” 

Madeleine thought a moment. "Why don’t you ask Mr. 
Tatum to come here some evening ? ” 

" Oh ! he wouldn’t come.” 

"I’m not so sure of that, at any rate we will see. We 
must ask him here this evening, where does he live ? ” 

"At the Astor House, I think,” replied Mr. Cateret. 

" Very well, let me manage this. Go to the Astor House 
and don’t come away until you see him; ask him up, and 
leave the rest to me. Tell him he has never met your 
daughter. Is he married, by the way ? ” 

" Oh, no, his wife died years ago, he half starved her 
they say, but I don’t believe he is quite so bad.” 

"Well, you had better go now, papa, it is getting late.” 

Obedient to his daughter’s wish, Mr. Cateret called at 
the Astor House and found Mr. Tatum in the reading room. 

" What are you going to do to-night, Tatum ?” 

" Nothing particular, Cateret, why do you ask ? ” 

" Oh, I thought you might like to come around to the 
house; some of the boys will be there, and we will have a 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 75 

little poker, and some supper. You never met my daugh- 
ter, I believe.” 

“ Never had a chance,” said the old fellow, blinking his 
eyes. “ The boys say she’s a stunner, wondered you never 
asked me before!” and the old man tried to look wicked, 
and nudged Cateret in the ribs. “ Single man, you know, 
should give us all an even chance.” 

In spite of his good nature, Mr. Cateret looked disgusted. 

“ Come up then, it is understood, to-night about nine 
o’clock.” 

" I’ll be there, Cateret, must go and get shaved now.” 

“ He’ll come, Madeleine, I didn’t believe he would, but I 
think you are the attraction, and he’ll come,” said her 
father when he returned. 

“ How old is he, papa ? ” 

“ Hard to tell that, anywhere between sixty and seventy, 
old enough.” 

“ Then he probably likes to eat an I drink well.” 

" That he does, when he can do it at some one else’s ex- 
pense; he always manages to hitch on to a party going out 
to lunch. I think he’s got a double-headed copper some* 
where about him, he always wins when we match to see 
who will pay.” 

"He’ll pay this time, in spite of his lucky penny,” 
thought Madeleine, but she said nothing. 

Promptly about nine o’clock, Mr. Tatum appeared. His 
long frock coat was buttoned tightly around his wizened 
form, his thin brown hair was brushed carefully over the 
bald spots on his head, and his old-fashioned dicky, stuck 
up on the sides of his cheeks like the side boards to a 
wheelbarrow. Madeleine was presented to him, and he 
bowed in an old-fashioned way, while fastening his yellow, 
beady eyes on her fair young face, as if he would inquire, 
“ is there anything here will hurt me?” 

Apparently the scrutiny was satisfactory, and he gave 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


76 

himself up to the novel enjoyment of being made much of, 
by a beautiful young woman. Madeleine was in gorgeous 
apparel and absolutely scintillated with wit. She made 
Mr. Tatum easily at home, and the old, withered, miserly 
fellow fairly beamed with the pleasure it gave him to be 
made so much of by the charming girl. He paid her 
ridiculous compliments in his high falsetto, and a ghastly 
grin exhibiting his few yellow stumps of teeth, accom- 
panied every effort on his part to be facetious. 

At supper he was waited upon first, and the choicest 
bits of game, the nicest cut of a Spanish ham, direct from 
Cadiz, were his, and when it came to a Strasburg pate, 
Madeleine dug out the truffles, and heaped them on his 
plate. His glass was always full of champagne, and after 
the supper was over, Madeleine even lighted his cigar for 
him, and took a few little puffs herself first. 

Later in the evening, “ Silver ” whispered to Mr. Cateret, 
“Look out, Cateret, for that lovely daughter of yours, the 
old man is making a dead set at her.” 

Mr. Cateret looked but did not interfere, for he trusted 
Madeleine thoroughly, and although he did not know what 
it all meant, he knew enough of her to know that all this 
attention had a definite object. 

“ My dear, you are charming,” mumbled the old man, 
“ but I fear I am keeping you from the rest of the com- 
pany.” 

“ Never mind, Mr. Tatum, I am sure I can’t see what 
they find in cards to interest them, I much prefer the con- 
versation of an intelligent man, one who knows something 
about the world.” 

“ Quite right, quite right, Miss Cateret, your papa has too 
many such as these around him. You should warn him, 
a great mistake, great mistake,” he said wagging his old 
head. 

“1 have often thought of that, Mr, Tatum^ they are 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


77 


hardly business men, I often wish I could do papa’s busi- 
ness for him. Ah! that reminds me, that mortgage of his 
becomes due soon, does it not, Mr. Tatum ? Why, your 
cigar is not lighted, I am told it spoils a cigar to have it 
go out, won’t you have a fresh one ? No ? let me light this 
then! About that mortgage, I told him to-night he had 
better get it renewed, for a year more, paying the interest 
of course, don’t you think it best ?” 

“ Why, yes — yes — perhaps so, but really I wanted to use 
the money,” squeaked the falsetto voice, “ money is hard 
to get now.” 

“ Yes, papa said so, but as an especial favor, Mr. Tatum, 
and I will see the interest is paid promptly when it is due. 
I have a little money, and I expect some more.” And 
Madeleine drew her chair close to Mr. Tatum’s — they were 
sitting quite apart from the card players — and looked him 
steadily in the face. He saw those large brown eyes, and 
he felt her warm, sweet breath on his cheek, he hesitated 
a moment. Money was his God, he wanted to handle it 
again, still he thought, “ I shan’t lose anything, perhaps it 
is well placed, I might get the property — what wonderful 
eyes she has ! ” 

“Ahem ! ahem ! well. Miss Madeleine, since you insist, 
my dear, but I must have ten per cent., ten per cent., and 
a bonus.” 

“ Yes, yes,” laughed Madeleine, “you shall have it,” and 
she just brushed the old man’s hair with her rosy lips. 
She didn’t know what a bonus was, but she chose to under- 
stand it, and pay it in the way she did. 

After this little scene, she passed into the other room 
and taking a mouthful of water, she spat it out, rubbed 
her lips, and ejaculated “ ugh ! the beast,” and a look of 
disgust which was soon effaced, showed itself for a moment, 
on her charming countenance. The party broke up shortly 
after, and as Mr. Tatum took his leave, Madeleine said: 


7 * 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“Papa, Mr. Tatum thinks you had better renew the 
mortgage. You must pay the interest, Fve paid the bonus, 
have I not ?” looking mischievously at Mr. Tatum. 

“ How! bonus! Oh, yes, to be sure, to be sure,” and the 
old money grabber cast a look at Madeleine, which almost 
tempted Mr. Cateret to knock him down the steps. 

“ Yes, come down and fix it up, Cateret, great business 
woman this daughter of yours.” 

“ Good-night, my dear.” 

“ Good-night, Mr. Tatum, come and see me again,” said 
Madeleine, as he left the room. 

When her father came back from seeing Mr. Tatum to 
the door Madeleine said : 

“Papa, with my consent that old reptile shall never 
cross the threshold of this house again.” 

He never did. 


NOT TO THE o vVIFT. 


79 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“davie’s roost.” 

Away up under the sky, in one of the high tenement 
houses on Grand Street, just off the Bowery, lived Augus- 
tus and Davie Duck. 

Shortly after Mrs. Duck’s death the boys concluded to 
remove from the dark, noisome basement they had occu- 
pied with their mother, to some more habitable, or at least 
wholesome location. The task of selecting this abode was 
left to Davie, not so much that little Davie had more time, 
but he had ideas about the matter, which he impressed 
upon his older brother. 

Despite his lack of education, and notwithstanding his 
street bringing up, Davie had sentiment, the refinement of 
feeling which often accompanies crippled forms. Lacking 
sympathy, and dependent upon himself for amusement, 
while keenly alive to all which was going on around him, 
and of which he was unable to partake, he grew morbidly 
sensitive. 

Davie loved the stars, they were always kind to him, did 
not mock or jeer at his humpback. This seemed to estab- 
lish a confidence with them, he called them by name. 
Somehow he learned where Venus was, and Jupiter, he 
knew the Dipper, and the Pleiades, the Great Bear, and 
other constellations, and he talked to them nights when 
he went on the roof. He played the mouth organ for 
them, and lying on his back on the hard gravel, he looked 
np and recited that little nursery rhyme which appeals to 
; 11 childish imaginations. 


So 


NOT TO THE SWIET. 


“ Twinkle, twinkle, little star, 

How I wonder what you are,” etc., etc. 

He recited it softly, it was only the stars he talked to, 
they only understood him. 

He heard the hum of the great world pulsating under- 
neath, in the streets; but among the stars all was quiet 
and calm, and his great eyes shone with all a star’s bright- 
ness. Long after everybody else had gone down, he lay 
there, still looking, and longing, and wondering. This is 
how Davie, in looking for a home chose one next to the 
roof; it mattered little to Gus, so he was suited. 

Davie conducted his search for lodgings for many days, 
and patiently and contentedly climbed stair after stair to 
find what he wanted. Like most cripples Davie possessed 
much good sense and no little energy; and his search was 
finally rewarded by finding just the rooms he sought. 

One day when Gus was on his way to the dingy, rat-in- 
fested cellar, to get his supper, which it was Davie’s task 
to provide, he met his little brother, who cried out on see- 
ing him: 

“ 0 Gussie, Gussie, I’m glad I found yer, come along 
wid me.” 

“All right, Davie, where to ? ” And Gus took Davie’s 
little hand in his big paw. 

“ Hot far, I’ll show yer, Gussie,” and Davie trotted along 
contentedly, pouring out a perfect stream of talk in his 
efforts to mislead Gus as to his motive. 

“Don’t yer get tired, Gussie,” he said looking up in his 
brother’s eyes as if to find any sign of impatience. Gus 
laughed. 

“Well, that’s a great note, Davie, you telling me not to 
get tired, don’t you think I can walk as far as you, you 
little rat ? ” 

“I don’t think nothing, Gussie, only I’se afraid yer 
wanted yer supper, and yer can't have it jes yet.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 8 1 

“ Oh ! never mind, little breeches, it ain't much when it’s 
got.” 

Davie chuckled and pulled Gus into a doorway just then. 

“ We's going up here a bit, Gussie.'' 

“All right, I'm agreeable, goin' to make a call on yer 
girl, Davie?” laughed Gus, willing to humor the little 
cripple, and half suspecting his object. 

“Naw,” said Davie in disgust, “hain't got no girl.” 

They had already climbed up two flights of stairs, and 
Gus saw more to come. Davie was laboring along, helping 
himself up by resting his hands on his knees, as all these 
little hunchbacks do. 

The little fellow began to puff, but his anxiety to get 
Gus up without his suspecting, was so great that he strug- 
gled on, till Gus reaching down caught him by the arms 
and swung him to his shoulder. Had it been on the street 
Davie would have resented this, but he was thoroughly 
tired out, and did not object. He clapped his hands, call- 
ing “ higher, higher,” as Gus paused at the fifth landing. 
Finally they reached the top. Davie begged to be put 
down ; and producing a key, opened a door at the head of 
the stairs, and ran in, calling for Gus to “ come along.” 

Then striking a match, he lighted a lamp, and Gus saw 
a good-sized room, with two windows looking out upon the 
street. A bright fire was burning in a cook stove, which 
had been polished up, until it shone. In the centre of the 
room was a pine table covered with a clean cloth, on the 
table were two plates, two cups and saucers, knives and 
forks, and a sugar bowl. 

Two common kitchen chairs, and a wooden box, com- 
pleted the furnishing of this room. While Gus was taking 
this all in, Davie was busy in the other room, and soon 
called out, “ come in here, Gussie.” 

Gus went in and found Davie had lighted a couple of 
candles, which he had stuck in two empty bottles. The 
6 


8 2 


NOT TO THE • SWIFT. 


inner room was somewhat smaller than the other, and con- 
tained a bed nicely made up, and covered with an old spread 
which Gus recognized as his mother’s; there was also a 
good-sized drygoods box, which Davie had made look re- 
spectable by covering it with a hit of chintz, for which he 
had paid a few pennies; this stood on end, and on it were 
a wash bowl and pitcher. By tacking a bit of leather to 
the cover, Davie had made hinges, and fastening it with a 
wooden button of his own manufacture, it served as a 
wardrobe; for inside, a couple of cleats sustained a board, 
which made a shelf. Just now it did duty as a pantry, 
for Davie had not had time to fix up a pantry in the 
kitchen. 

A few nails driven into the wall held the scanty cloth- 
ing of the two boys. The only attempt at decoration was 
a half dozen cheap prints, and some illustrations from 
Harper’s Weekly , which Davie had tacked on the walls. 

Gus took the whole thing in at a glance, and then looked 
at Davie who -stood by the bed, his eyes glistening, his nos- 
trils quivering, as he drew in short breaths, while waiting 
for the verdict. 

“ Why, you dear little Davie,” burst out Gus, “ you don’t 
mean we are to live here, instead of that pesky old cellar ? ” 

“ Yes, dat’s it, Gussie, it’s all our’n, I hunted, an’ hunted, 
till I found it, it don’t cost a hit more dan de ole sullar ! ” 
he said, anxious lest Gus should think him extravagant. 

“ I done it all, ’cept bringing de stove up, I traded de ole 
bed an’ stove for dis here, an’ I got trusted for de table, 
an’ chairs, was I right, Gussie ? ” 

“ Guess you was, little breeches,” Gus always called him 
“ little breeches ” when good-humored. 

Just then Davie’s attention was attracted by the hiss 
and splutter of the tea kettle, which was boiling over. 

“Oh! hokey! sit down, Gussie, I must make de tea, de 
kittle’s b’ilin’,” and Davie rushed into the other room, pro- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


83 

duced a tea pot from somewhere, and set the tea to steep- 
ing. From the cupboard he brought out a spider contain- 
ing some slices of ham, which he placed on the stove, then 
he sliced up some cold potatoes, which he put to fry with 
the ham. 

While the cooking was going on he dived into the pantry 
and extracted a loaf of bread and some butter, arranged it 
all nicely on the table, rushed back to the stove, turned 
his ham and potatoes to brown them nicely, and in a few 
minutes announced to the amused and tender-hearted Gus, 
who sat watching it all, his eyes filled with suspicious 
moisture, “ de supper’s ready, Gussie, pull up.” 

Gus did by a mighty effort pull himself together, and 
picking up his brother with as little effort as if he had 
been a doll, he held him a moment in the air opposite his 
face, then kissing him tenderly, he said: 

“ Davie, you’re a brick,” and sat him down. 

Poor little sensitive Davie was completely upset by Gus’ 
marked emotion, and as his brother sat down, he threw his 
arms around his neck and hiding his face on his shoulder, 
he sobbed for very joy at the thought that little and insig- 
nificant as he was he had almost moved his mighty brother 
to tears. 

“ Come, Davie,” said Gus, choking back the flow, “ sup- 
per will get cold if we don’t eat it.” And Davie, conquer- 
ing his feelings, sat down, and aided Gus in demolishing 
the frugal meal. 

“ How d’you like it, Gussie, jolly ain’t it ? ” suggested the 
little fellow. 

“ Splendid, Davie, splendid, almost too fine I’m afraid.” 

Davie’s face fell, and Gus saw it. 

“ I only meant that it was so much nicer than we have 
ever had, we shall get to looking down on poor folks.” 

“ Guess not yet, ’tain’t half so fine as I’se bound to make 
it, Gus/’ answered Davie, 


8 4 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


" Pretty high for you to climb, ain't it, Davie ? ” 

" Sho, I don’t mind it if you don’t. Say, Gussie, dis is 
our home ain’t it ? ” 

" Certing, why not?” 

"Well, less call it suthin.” 

" What are you drivin’ at, Davie ? ” 

" Why, some name, don’t yer see ?” 

"Oh!” said Gus, "christen it ? I twig, what will it be, 
Davie, you found it ? ” 

" I don’t know, you say.” 

" Well, call it, lemme see,” and Gus’ eyes twinkled, "call 
it der robbers’ cave.” 

"Naw,” said Davie indignantly, "we ain’t no robbers, 
call it suthin’ fine.” 

" I’ve got it, you found it, Davie, and it is way up high, 
we’ll call it Davie’s Roost.’ ” 

"Hurray! Gussie, dat’s it, dat’s a good name. I’ll roost 
up here, ’cept when I’se ‘ shining.’” And Davie who had 
seen a launch once, and watched a lady break a bottle of 
wine on a ship’s bows, picking up the teapot and holding 
it on high poured a little tea on the floor saying, " I name 
it ‘ Davie’s Roost.’ ” 

Gus laughed and lighted his pipe, while Davie began to 
clear up things. When everything was packed snugly 
away, Davie sat down on a corner of a wood box — the 
chairs were too high for him — and bringing out his mouth 
organ began to play. 

This was Davie’s one accomplishment. He had only to 
hear an air whistled, or sung once, and he could repeat it 
on his mouth organ with variations; and he played the 
simple instrument with much taste. He commenced his 
concert by playing " Home, Sweet Home,” and had hardly 
played it through once, when a gentle knock was heard at 
the door. Gus shouted "come in” thinking some of their 
friends had found them out, The door softly opened, and 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


35 

a little girl of perhaps ten or twelve years of age, came 
timidly in, looked shyly around, fixing her eyes on Davie, 
said : 

“Fm Bessie, I live down-stairs. I love music, may I 
stay a little ? ” 

“ Why, certainly,” said Gus, who although not more than 
eighteen felt immeasurably older than she was, “ sit down, 
little girl, and brother Davie will play for you. Come, 
Davie, play something lively.” Davie played the “ White 
Cockade,” and the “Arkansas Traveller.” 

Bessie listened critically, and then ventured the remark 
that she thought “ Home, Sweet Home,” nicer. Davie 
thought so too, and played it again. Then Bessie thought 
she must go. 

“ May I come again, little boy, and hear you play ? ” she 
inquired, looking at Davie. Davie nodded. Gus spoke 
up, “ Come any time and Davie will play for you, Bessie.” 
Whereupon their visitor bade them good-by and retired. 

“ What a nice little girl, Davie, she will be great com- 
pany for you,” said Gus. 

“ I dun know, Fse afraid she knows too much, but I’ll 
play for her, she’s so clean.” 

“ That makes me think of something, Davie,” said Gus, 
“you must go to evening school. There’s one right on 
this street; by-and-by you can learn book-keeping.” 

“May I, Gussie? Dat’s jes what I wants, I want ter 
know suthin’.” 

So it was determined that Davie should go to evening 
school. And now at the time of which I write, Davie had 
attended school for a number of years and had studied 
book-keeping for the last six months. He could read and 
write nicely, and no longer used the language of the street 
to express his wants. He had also advanced a step in his 
music, for he had purchased a violin, and had taught him- 
self to play by ear, and only needed instruction to become 


86 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


a fine performer. For all this, he still blackened boots, in 
the day-time, for although fourteen, he was very small and 
slight. They still occupied the same rooms, but the furni- 
ture had been entirely changed, the rooms papered neatly 
— Gus had done that on Sundays, then their kitchen and 
dining room had a neat oil cloth carpet, there were plenty 
of chairs, and a new table and stove; the bedroom was 
also carpeted. A huge wardrobe stood for their clothes, 
and the old wooden box covered with chintz, had given 
place to a washstand. The window was supplied with 
curtains, and on a ledge outside, was a box of earth, with 
plants. On the wall was a hanging book-case well-filled, 
and two or three engravings modestly framed, hung there 
also. The whole effect was very comfortable and “ Davie's 
Roost ” really looked like home. Davie no longer did the 
cooking; that was attended to by a poor woman in the 
house who only charged a small sum, and Bessie Merrill, 
and her mother saw that everything was kept clean. 

Bessie was a nice-looking girl of sixteen, a milliner's as- 
sistant, and Mrs. Merrill did fine sewing. The two house- 
holds almost seemed like one, they were so intimate. No 
evening passed, that they were not together, and the hap- 
piest time of the day was, when they were all assembled 
after supper in the clean kitchen of “ Davie's Roost." 
Mrs. Merrill brought some light sewing, Gus read, and 
Bessie either read or covered bonnet frames. Then Davie 
would take down his violin and play; it was the customary 
way of spending the evenings in winter, or when the 
weather was cold. But on warm summer nights, they 
would all adjourn to the roof, and Davie take his violin 
along. It was not alone our friends from “ Davie's Roost," 
who went there, but frequently the occupants of the whole 
tenement, when the air was stifling below, and often entire 
strangers to them all, were there, "roof walkers,” they 
were called, who preferred the roofs to the parks, for there 
were no policemen there. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


87 

They all sat or lay in little groups and chatted, or lis- 
tened to the music, the men smoking, and the women dis- 
cussing the little gossip of the house. Below the noise 
and light of the great city, above, the clear starry heavens. 
As they sat clustered together, Davie declared they only 
needed tents to resemble an encampment of Arabs in the 
desert. 

As the night grew old some disappeared below, but 
many remained, and always the “ roof walkers.” 

Gus and Davie brought up their mattress and lay there 
all night. Gus smoked and speculated and planned, and 
Davie, as usual, conned the stars. 

Poor, weary toilers ! how little except the free air, life 
offered them, and the “ tramps of the roofs,” they came 
and went, unknown and unquestioned. They disappeared, 
like a flock of migratory birds, with the morning sun. 


88 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER IX. 

A STUDY IN WHITE. 

“ Oh, missis, missis, dar’s de sweetest gemman down in 
de parlor, an’ he axed for you, an’ he gimme dis,” and 
Millie held out a card which she had grasped by the corner 
in her apron for fear of soiling it. Madeleine took it and 
read, Hugo Bernhard. 

“ Go down, Millie, and tell the gentleman I will be down 
directly." Whereupon Millie retired, delivered the mes- 
sage, and retreated to the kitchen, to tell Aunt Sally that 
Missis Madeleine had a beau, “ the buf ullest man I ever 
did see." 

“ Go long wid yur nonsense, thar’s no beaus hyar what’s 
good nuff fur yo missis; her beau will come outen de Souf, 
go long wid yo, yo poor yaller trash," and Aunt Sally splut- 
tered, indignant that Millie should think her Maddy would 
look at a Northern "gemman." 

When, a few moments later, Madeleine walked into the 
parlor, Hugo Bernhard thought he had never seen so beau- 
tiful a picture as she presented. Dressed in a simple white 
muslin gown made high in the neck, and fitting her full, 
white throat perfectly, her head with its masses of black 
hair seemed to rise from this environment, as if to offer 
an artistic protest against the simplicity of her adornment. 

There was a freshness and daintiness about this vision in 
white, which captured the artist, Hugo, at once. “Dea 
certe," came to his mind, as he arose from his chair to 
greet her. 

Madeleine was not a vivacious girl. She had all the 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


89 

languorous graces of the South, and her movements were 
as lissome and supple as a tall-stemmed willow which yields 
to the gentle summer’s breeze. And as she moved toward 
him, Hugo thought her air the perfection of grace and high 
breeding. Her natural tact was a match for his “ savoir 
faire.” If Hugo in his manly beauty was almost another 
Antinous stepped out of Hadrian’s time, Madeleine was a 
veritable Cleopatra in form, face and hair. One almost ex- 
pected to hear the stately phraseology of the past, “ Most 
noble Queen, I bear from illustrious Mark Anthony his 
warmest greetings.” And from Cleopatra: 

“ Be seated, noble sir, here upon this couch, and what 
saith my noble Lord ? ” 

What was really said, was : 

Hugo — “ I am delighted to see you again, Miss Cateret.” 

Miss Cateret — “ Good-evening, Mr. Bernhard, we thought 
we had quite lost you.” 

Simple, conventional, and in every way correct, yet the 
heart of one of these people beat with redoubled force, as 
he gazed upon this calm, self-poised, young beauty. The 
other could hardly say what she felt, except that Mr. 
Bernhard was the handsomest man she had ever seen. 

The conversation naturally recurred to their ocean trip, 
and Madeleine asked if he had found his parents well, and 
expressed a desire to see his sister. 

Either Madeleine did not intend the conversation to in- 
clude any personal feature, or else she wished Hugo to 
speak of himself, his plans, and prospects, that she might 
judge what his ambitions were. At all events, she did not 
permit, or at least encourage, any special reference to their 
ocean voyage; and Hugo soon noticed the mention of it 
was distasteful, and he therefore avoided the subject. 

The evening was one of those close, oppressive ones, 
often experienced in New York in the early summer, and 
Madeleine suggested that they sit outside in order to get 


9 o 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


the benefit of the light breeze. She had learned thoroughly 
how to make men comfortable, and Hugo had no sooner 
seated himself, than she brought out a box of her father’s 
cigars, and insisted upon his smoking. It was not possible 
that he should refuse; the cigars he saw were good, the 
invitation was sweetly given, and it recalled their steamer 
life— for he had often smoked while chatting with her on 
deck. 

The conversation, aided by the good offices of the cigar, 
soon established itself on a friendly basis. Just one word 
here to young ladies who like a man, but do not wish him 
to make love to them: give him a good cigar; he can’t 
possibly make love while smoking, and the cigar establishes 
confidence and promotes conversation. 

It was so in this case, Hugo felt that he was being treated 
in the friendliest possible manner, and yet sentiment was 
discouraged. 

In answer to a question of Madeleine’s, Hugo remarked 
that his stay in New York would probably be short, as he 
had entered his father’s office and temporarily abjured art. 

“ Why, Mr. Bernhard, how can you think of such a thing 
as giving up your profession ? ” inquired Madeleine. 

“ The fact is, I don’t think at all, it is forced upon me. 
You see my father has always been a comparatively wealthy 
man; but, like many others, he was crippled by the panic, 
and although he is far from being poor, his health has 
failed, and I feel that it would be criminal for me to desert 
him now he needs me so much. I trust you will pardon 
the allusion to my personal affairs, but I feel like justify- 
ing my change of heart.” 

“ But does this necessitate your complete relinquishment 
of art ? How about your illustrious predecessors ? How 
many of them found life luxurious, money at command, 
and the world at their feet, at the outset ? Is there no 
other reason than that you must figure up accounts, let 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


91 


contracts, and pay laborers ? Is a little discouragement 
fatal to high aspirations ? Has enthusiasm waned between 
Paris and New Haven ? ” 

Madeleine who was aroused to a pitch of earnestness she 
did not often display, paused a moment, and Hugo was not 
a little discomposed at this keen analysis of his position, 
delivered with almost judicial severity. He came, he knew, 
for sympathy, and he found cold, critical, impartial candor. 

He was quick to see his position, and had tact enough 
to repress the savage feeling which Madeleine’s sarcasm 
evoked, and his answer was a diplomatic one. 

“ While I am quite sure you must have taken me au 
scrieux, Miss Cateret, when I spoke of giving up my pro- 
fession, your remarks have given me infinite pleasure in 
showing me that a total desertion from my chosen profes- 
sion, for the sake of mammon, would not meet the appro- 
bation of a world disposed to criticise such a step. And I 
have a pleasanter feeling for a public which would treat 
such a communication as unpardonable.” 

"Stop there, please, Mr. Bernhard,” said Madeleine 
coldly, "I represent no ‘ public/ nor could I assume the 
right to sit in judgment over a man’s convictions. I be- 
lieved your ambitions were being dwarfed, and your career 
imperilled, by outside influences. I am glad to learn it is 
not so. I am only a girl, but when I used to go to the 
Louvre, and see those grand masterpieces, I often thought 
that the influence exercised over mankind through their 
revelations, must atone for any lack of the ordinary physi- 
cal comforts which the artist during life maty have experi- 
enced.” 

"A very spirited and idealistic view, Miss Cateret, but 
appreciation in this life, would doubtless be ample com- 
pensation, for the artists of our day.” 

"I am convinced that we are at cross purposes, Mr. 
Bernhard. You mean the laborer is worthy of his hire, 


92 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


and payment should not be postponed. I mean that honor, 
fame, and power are the rewards of industry and genius 
combined, and to know the coming race is to be influenced, 
and possibly controlled, by the creation of one’s ideas, is a 
far grander object to contemplate, than the commercial 
value of so much paint and oil, on a given quantity of can- 
vas. Jl can conceive no higher aspiration than to wield 
power grandly, and an artist has that within him, which 
properly developed, must in ascertain line mould ideas.” 

“ But is the scope of an artist’s power in this direction 
not limited, Miss Cateret ? ” 

"Of an artist, yes; but not of art. I was carried away 
at the thought that one, who possibly has the power to 
affect more lives, even in a small degree, seemed disposed 
to relinquish that power, but ” — and Madeleine, realizing 
that she had inadvertently betrayed herself, hastened to 
observe the effect of her invective. "I suppose these no- 
tions of mine are somewhat fanciful, and I may change 
them.” 

In the excitement of her quick, eager speech, Madeleine 
had stood leaning against one of the pillars of the balcony, 
and as her ideas clothed themselves in strong, vigorous 
language, she leaned back and rested her head against the 
pillar, and so standing, was perfectly erect and motionless. 

Hugo watched her admiringly. A priestess of Apollo 
could not have looked more inspired than she, in the heat 
of her argument. He was astonished to hear such senti- 
ments delivered with such force. He had not endowed 
Madeleine in his mind with soft, womanly characteristics, 
it is true, but he had thought her eminently practical; a 
"dollars and sense” girl he had thought her. Here she 
was all passion, all fire, and fervor, but all directed in the 
line of man’s ambitions: it was a revelation, and yet a 
blow. In figure, face and air, a sweet, simple girl; in voice, 
mind and purpose, an ambitious, enthusiastic woman. Even 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


93 


while he admired, he was disappointed. From this on, 
Madeleine seemed anxious to obliterate all recollection of 
her emphatic protest against the relinquishment of his art 
studies; her mood entirely changed, and she gossiped of 
the news of the daj r , the coming of the Prince of Wales, of 
the political news then rife about secession, and so forth. 

About this time Mr. Oateret returned, and greeted Hugo 
cordially. They finally adjourned to the parlor, and Made- 
leine begged Hugo to play for them, which he did, and 
then accompanied her while she sang. Her voice was a 
strong, dramatic contralto, and although not carefully cul- 
tivated, there was much magnetism in her singing. 

On the whole the evening was thoroughly enjoyable, and 
despite its unfortunate commencement, it ended satisfac- 
torily. Mr. Cateret was as usual affable, facetious, and al- 
though a little pompous, very entertaining. Hugo noticed 
that whenever he mounted his Pegasus, a quiet look from 
Madeleine brought him down easily and effectually. As 
he took his leave, Madeleine, just one instant, reminded 
him of the historical picture he was to paint, and of which 
he had spoken to her on the steamer, and she begged to 
see it when well under way. Hugo laughingly promised 
she should inspect it, and bade them good-night. 

On his way to the hotel, Hugo ran over in his mind the 
various occurrences of the evening. While on the steamer 
coming over, he thought Madeleine one of the loveliest 
and most fascinating women he had ever seen. Her very 
waywardness, as exhibited to him, was the chief charm of 
her personality, but he thought he had detected, this even- 
ing, indications that her character was far from guileless. 
The little look she had given her father on one or two oc- 
casions, and the diplomatic way in which she manoeuvred, 
when the conversation took a turn she did not like, indi- 
cated both tact and cunning. 

Beside all this, Madeleine's voice puzzled him. Hugo's 


94 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


nature was a thoroughly artistic one, as sensitive to tones 
as he was to colors; and while his eyes were caught by her 
exceeding beauty and grace, the tone of her voice repelled 
him. He said to himself, “ she is cold, and unsympathetic/' 
and yet in a moment he thought differently. “ No, she is 
certainly not cold — what a roasting she gave me when I 
spoke of giving up painting. It is not lack of sympathy, 
either, ” he mused, “ else why did she become so enthusias- 
tic about art ? She has passion and feeling, but there is a 
tone in her voice, which is jarring; it seems like a trained 
voice; one which expresses just as much as the owner 
wishes, and no more. Yes, there is a lack of spontaneity 
about it ; she is either a very deep girl, or else that par- 
ticular tone I noticed, comes from habitual schooling.” 

The study of the human voice was a hobby of Hugo’s, 
and he had often boasted to his fellow-students, that, given 
a voice, he could construct the person, at least the mental 
portrait of the speaker. One thing he was sure of — that 
the degree of trust he could place in a person, was more 
easily told by listening to the voice, than by any other 
method. 

To his great distress he could not free himself from the 
feeling that the vibrations of Madeleine’s voice betokened 
characteristics he did not wish to find there. In the glamor 
of association, while yielding to fascination of her physical 
presence, he resented the intrusion upon his mind of such 
an unwelcome thought. Once under the spell of those 
large, soulful eyes, his judgment was warped, and his im- 
agination enslaved. Away from the magnet, his intelli- 
gence asserted itself, and he became perplexed. He could 
not banish that ghost of a voice. It was well on toward 
morning, when Hugo slept and then he dreamed of a beau- 
tiful siren, who lured him on with a snake-like fascination, 
from which it was impossible to break away. She stood at 
the entrance to a cave, and beckoned to him. Although 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


95 


struggling to resist, he drew ever nearer. He could feel 
his heart heat against the walls of his chest, and he panted 
as he moved slowly toward those shining orbs, which drew 
him on. He. knew he was lost and his violent struggles to 
resist were about being replaced by a paralyzing horror, 
when he was aroused by the shock of some object striking 
the wall of the next room. He found himself upright in 
bed, his heart beating fa^t and the cold perspiration stand- 
ing out on his forehead. He gave a heavy sigh of relief 
and then lay down again to sleep, half hoping he might 
have one more glimpse of the bewitching siren of his 
dream. 

Poor Hugo! he could just flutter around the light of 
that magnetic presence; he was sure to suffer, but the very 
intensity of his sufferings would give him delight. 


96 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER X. 

“a picker up of unconsidered trifles.” 

Among the friends of Madeleine whom we have once 
before had occasion to mention, was Grace Richmond, who, 
as a girl, had attended the same private school in New 
York, and between whom and Madeleine a warm friend- 
ship had existed at that time. 

Grace had immediately called upon Madeleine, and the 
old friendship was renewed. Madeleine’s resolute mind 
and captivating ways had established her as Grace’s men- 
tor, and on the part of one of them at least, devotion was 
absolute. While the intellectual side of Madeleine’s nature 
was more marked, and commanded the respect of weaker 
intellects, Grace’s mind was more highly cultivated and 
sympathetic, more sensitive and emotional ; she was swayed 
by her feelings, Madeleine, never. Madeleine reasoned out 
the various problems presented to her mind, and arrived at 
definite results, Grace was all intuition, all enthusiasm, and 
lacked application. 

It tired her to sit down and reflect; she simply decided 
instantaneously. Her great admiration for Madeleine’s cool- 
ness and judgment put her in the position of dependency. 
She never knew how she stood, until Madeleine’s fiat had 
gone forth. Her assured superiority left no question in 
Grace’s mind; she simply succumbed. With all the light- 
ness and frivolity of her character, she was charming in 
disposition, and loyal in her friendship. Whether Made- 
leine cared particularly for her, it was hard to say; she 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


97 


petted her, and used her, but gave her no confidences. 
Grace felt this, but could not break away from the fascina- 
tion of her presence. 

Possibly the purely physical quality of Madeleine’s 
beauty had an effect upon her. Grace’s more spiritual na- 
ture was magnetized by the splendid personality of her 
friend; the moment she came into her presence she be- 
came a reflection of greater or less intensity according to 
Madeleine’s desire. 

Grace was never tired of regarding Madeleine’s beauty. 
“ Where did you get that nose, Madeleine ? ” she would say, 
referring to that exquisite feature. "Just look at mine, 
and I needed a nice one so much ! I don’t believe you half 
appreciate what your ancestors have done for you.” And 
yet Grace’s nose was far from ugly ; it had a comical de- 
pression at the tip, and was just slightly turned up, which 
gave her a piquant look quite irresistible. Her delicate 
pink cheek was dimpled like a babe’s and her friends went 
in raptures over her charms, but all this was not satisfac- 
tory to Miss Grace. 

The idol of her family, she only yielded obedience to the 
stronger will of Madeleine. Harry, her brother, a good- 
looking, broad-shouldered young fellow, was a partner in 
his father’s business, and the firm of H. A. Richmond & 
Son, stood high in commercial circles. Their handsome 
residence on Fifth Avenue was in all respects a well-ap- 
pointed home. 

The Richmonds were also Southerners, that is, father 
and mother were from Nashville, but the children were 
born in New York. The morning Grace had called, Mrs. 
Richmond had been suddenly summoned to Albany where 
her sister’s husband was dangerously ill. Mr. Richmond 
thought this exceedingly unfortunate, as he had invited a 
few old cronies to play whist that evening, and this was 
forgotten until Mrs. Richmond had taken the train. There 
7 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


98 

was no one but Grace to superintend affairs, and she felt 
herself helpless. 

“ Can't give it up, Gracie, you must get on somehow," 
said her father. “ Order anything you wish, I must be off 
now." Thrusting all responsibility upon poor Grace, Mr. 
Iiichmond went to his bank. Whom should she look to, 
if not her friend Madeleine ? So to Madeleine she went, 
and stated her position. 

“ What can I do to help you, my dear Grace ? " inquired 
Madeleine. 

“ Do ? Why, tell me what to do to entertain these gen- 
tlemen, you have so many men here, and they all tell me 
you entertain so well. They are all old men, too, Made- 
leine," she said pouting. “ There's Commodore Vander- 
felt, and Deacon Dawes, and Mr. Hatch, and Mayor Wood. 
I don't know how many more. All railroad men, and stock 
brokers. Father calls them f big guns,' I know they are all 
rather ancient." 

As Grace rattled on, a thought came to Madeleine like 
an inspiration. Here was an opportunity; perhaps some 
chance word might give her a clue to some grand combina- 
tion. These men whom Grace had named, Madeleine knew 
to be the magnates in the money world. This thought de- 
lighted her, and she promised Grace she would come, but 
her manner implied she conferred a favor, where she hoped 
to reap a golden reward. 

If I have depicted Madeleine's character aright, the 
reader has learned that she was ambitious, clear headed, 
and strongly desirous of improving her own, and her 
father's financial position. Young as she was, a complete 
realization of Mr. Cateret's business inefficiency had im- 
pressed itself upon her mind; and her independence and 
self-confidence had led her to decide that if their fallen 
fortunes were to be restored, it must be through her own 
instrumentality. A difficult undertaking for one so young 


Not to the swift. 


99 


and inexperienced. All Madeleine knew of the business 
world, she gathered from hearing her fathers guests dis- 
cuss the stock, cotton, and grain markets; the idea had 
grown in her mind that, in some way, an opportunity for 
speculation would sooner or later come to her, and why 
should she not use it? Why could not she acquire the 
knowledge which enables a man to accumulate a fortune in 
a short time ? She must take desperate chances, and learn 
the characteristics of those who influenced the markets. 
She had heard of a Frenchwoman — the mistress of the 
Marquis de Cluny — who came in possession of a state se- 
cret, and used it to such effect, that she made millions 
which she afterward squandered and died in poverty. This 
should not be her fate she said to herself. Yes, she deter- 
mined to go and see these men. 

She knew she could — when the inclination seized her — 
cast a glamor over most men ; were these of another sort ? 
She would see. 

The Commodore was a great power in Wall Street, and 
the silent and mysterious Dawes had recently come into 
notice as a shrewd manipulator of other people’s money. 
What was the secret of their success ? Was it forbidden a 
woman to emulate their deeds ? Her mind was fired with 
the thought. What were the essentials ? Nerve, daring, 
secrecy. All these qualities were hers in a high degree. 
Madeleine knew herself thoroughly, and longed for an op- 
portunity to try her powers. 

When six o’clock came, she was dressed and awaiting the 
carriage which Grace had promised to send. Her toilet 
was made with extreme care, though very simple. The 
gown was a black silk, perfectly fitting, high in the neck, 
just exhibiting a plain linen collar from which rose her 
full, white throat, perfectly moulded. In her ears were 
her mother’s solitaire earrings. These ears of Madeleine’s 
were peculiar; they were perfect in shape, but too small. 


IOO 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Lavater would have taken one look, and passed her by, had 
he been seeking a generous, enthusiastic convert to his 
mystic belief. While the young and ardent lover might 
easily overlook this defect, which some might even think a 
charm, the student of physiognomy would have shaken his 
head, and advised his admiring friend to beware of those 
perfect shell-like ears. 

As a wife, she would never make him her confidant, nor 
disclose the passionate beatings of a warm and sympathetic 
heart. No sudden impulse would ever move her to self- 
abnegation, or the confession of an overpowering love. 
Even the relative propriety or impropriety of yielding to 
sentiment would be weighed and considered. If a little 
feeling were found to be advisable, just that amount would 
be displayed which judgment deemed expedient. So would 
Lavater or Caius have said, while viewing these ears, but 
these men lived many years ago, and Madeleine was an ex- 
quisitely beautiful woman. Why inculcate distrust of one 
so fair ? 

Twenty years after the time of which I write, I saw 
these ears, and they were just as small, and just as beauti- 
ful ; and who shall say what passionate throbs mus»t in all 
those years have beaten within the cage which held im- 
prisoned this woman’s heart ? But I neglect the progress 
of events. 

The carriage arrived promptly, and giving Aunt Sallv 
instructions to tell her father that she would spend the 
evening out, Madeleine was whirled away. 

Grace gave a sigh of relief when she saw her. 

“You blessed creature, now I am happy. I thought I 
never should get dressed, the servants asked me so many 
questions,” exclaimed vivacious Grace, clasping her friend 
in her arms. “ I think if I were asked another question I 
should well, Alice, what is it ? ” 

“ Why, Miss Grace, the ice cream isn’t here, and they 
promised it at six o’clock,” said the housemaid. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


IOI 


“ What do you want ice cream at all for, Grace ? ” inter- 
rupted Madeleine. “At least tell me why you ordered it 
at six ? Your gentlemen come at eight and will not expect 
supper until about ten.” 

“ That’s so,” cried Grace, “ I never thought of that. You 
can go now, Alice.” 

“ You ought to be thankful the evening is so cool,” said 
Madeleine, removing her light wrap. “Now, tell me, how 
do you propose entertaining these ogres of men ? ” 

“ Why, I forgot to say it is a whist party, and they will 
entertain themselves.” 

“So much the easier for you, Gracie; are your tables and 
cards ready ? And they must not make the coffee too 
soon ! ” 

“ Coffee ! ” ejaculated Grace. “ Mercy ! I didn’t intend 
to give them coffee.” 

“Oh! hot punch, or cold would be better, although 
either would do, it is getting colder.” 

“ Hot punch ! ” almost screamed Grace, “ why, I didn’t 
know they expected punch.” 

“Well, well, Gracie, don’t be disturbed, champagne will 
do.” 

“ Champagne ! ” groaned Grace, “ I don’t know whether 
papa has any or not, oh dear,” she sobbed. “ I knew it 
would be just so, I’m a little fool, I — I wish mamma were 
home, I have a good mind to run away.” 

“ No, Gracie, you will do nothing of the kind, you will 
stay here and entertain your father’s guests, and nicely 
too,” replied Madeleine. “ Now sit down and tell me what 
you have ordered.” 

“ I ordered two gallons of ice cream from Pistache’s, and 
three kinds of cake at Brodie’s.” 

“ Is that all, Gracie ? ” asked Madeleine, as Grace paused. 

“All but some lovely French olives I saw in the window 
of a grocery store, and I bought two jars,” 


102 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


This was too much for Madeleine’s gravity. 

“Ice cream, cake, and olives ’’—despite her sympathy 
for Grace, she fairly shrieked with laughter, while poor 
Grace grew red in the face with shame. 

“You wicked Grace, I know you mean to poison them,” 
laughed Madeleine. “Now listen, dear, men don’t care 
for ice cream and cake, you must have some ham and 
tongue sandwiches made, get a nice Stilton cheese and 
crackers, have coffee made about ten, and if you want to 
do it up well, get eighteen or twenty dozen shell oysters to 
start off with. If your father has some champagne, get it 
out, and have it iced. You won’t hear any complaints 
afterward, and probably plenty of compliments.” 

Madeleine made it so easy, that when evening came, and 
their guests began to arrive, everything was ready, and 
Grace all smiles and happiness. 

First to arrive was the famous “ Commodore.” Whence 
he derived that title, no one seemed to know, but it fitted 
him. He was a large, breezy sort of a man, with white 
hair and side whiskers. A nice, hearty, benevolent-looking 
old gentleman, one would say; anything but the wicked 
speculator who robbed people of their fortunes, whenever 
they ventured to invest them in the stock market. 

Madeleine looked him over as he came in. Arrogance, 
vanity, and obstinacy, were the signs she read in his as- 
sured air, upturned eyebrows, and firmly compressed lips. 
Would this man be of any use to her ? She looked again 
at the arch of his eyebrows upward from the outer corner, 
“ inordinately vain,” she thought; “ it is there if anywhere, 
he is weakest! ” Just then Grace brought him up and pre- 
sented him. 

When the “ Commodore ” met young ladies, he found 
them shy and indisposed to talk to him; he now met a 
young lady who looked him squarely in the face, and her 
look expressed undisguised admiration. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


103 


“ What glorious eyes she has, and how she uses them,” 
he thought. “ I think I must have made an impression 
on her ! ” The vain old man forgot his years. Madeleine’s 
admiration was so apparent, and seemed so genuine, espe- 
cially when he attempted to take his leave of her as Grace 
brought up Mayor Wood, and she gently detained him, say- 
ing, “ I had rather talk with you. Commodore Vanderfelt,” 
but just then Mr. Dawes came in, and as Madeleine wished 
to know him as well as the Commodore, she let him go, 
with a little regretful look, which gathered strength as he 
turned it over in his mind. 

“ What a lovely girl. Miss Grace,” said the handsome old 
gentleman to his hostess, “ who is she ? ” 

“ Why, I told you, f Commodore/ ” laughed Grace, “ she 
is my best friend, her father is on f Change 9 1 believe.” 

“ She is a great beauty, wonderful eyes ■” 

“And strange as it may seem, it appears to me, you have 
made a great impression on Madeleine,” said Grace slyly, 
without giving him time to finish his sentence. “But, 
‘ Commodore/ I know you are longing to begin your game, 
here is papa.” 

“ Come, Commodore/ it is you and I, against Dawes 
and Hatch, the other tables are already filled,” said Mr. 
Richmond, coming up with Madeleine on his arm, “ Miss 
Cateret will umpire our game.” 

“ Look over my hand, Miss Cateret,” said the Commo- 
dore as they sat down, “I am sure it will bring me 
luck.” 

Playing began, the Commodore was in great spirits, had 
bantered the whole table, while he held little asides with 
Madeleine, telling her how he intended playing. The con- 
versation was general and confined to the play; each side 
had a game to their credit, when Mr. Richmond ordered 
in the champagne, and the Commodore asked permission 
to drink a glass with Miss Cateret. 


104 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“With pleasure, Commodore Vanderfelt," and lifting 
her great eyes to his, she touched his glass with hers and 
murmured “a votre sante ." 

“ Eh ? what’s that, Miss Cateret ? Speak United States," 
said the old gentleman, who could be brusque even to a 
pretty woman. 

Madeleine smiled, determined to humor this old auto- 
crat of the money market, although it was exceedingly dis- 
tasteful to her to be addressed in that tone; and nothing 
but the desire to further her own schemes could have 
made her so complacent. 

“ I drink to your health, Commodore Vanderfelt," re- 
plied Madeleine, a slight flush of offended dignity coloring 
her cheek, and a little reserve tinging her voice, which the 
Commodore was not so dull as not to notice. 

“I beg your pardon, my dear young lady, I am too 
much of an American to fancy these French furbelows," 
said the Commodore half apologetically, “ your most obedi- 
ent servant." And he looked benignantly at the blushing 
girl as he raised his glass. 

“ Come, Commodore, your play," said Mr. Dawes. 

“ Mine is it ? " growled the old fellow, not relishing the 
interruption. 

“ You play your hand, Dawes, and I’ll play mine," and 
his lips retreated, exposing his glittering false teeth. “ If 
you don’t play the market better than you play whist, 
you’ll have enough to attend to," and the irascible old 
Commodore’s eyes snapped. 

“ Don’t worry about me, Commodore, I’m on the right 
side of the market, and we are five points to your two," 
quietly replied Mr. Dawes. The Commodore scowled, but 
did not reply, and Madeleine pricked up her ears. Just 
then she caught the aroma of coffee, and feared that some- 
thing might happen to interrupt a conversation which 
seemed to her highly entertaining. Hurrying out, she 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 105 

begged Grace to delay matters half an hour, which Grace 
promised wonderingly to do. 

Madeleine returned to her seat, in time to hear the Com- 
modore say, between his plays, “keep on selling New York 
Central and see where it will land you ! ” 

“Just what I intend doing,” replied the imperturbable 
Dawes quietly. 

“ I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Dawes,” broke in the old 
Commodore, “ I’ll bet you a new hat, she goes up ten, 
before she goes down three.” 

“ I’ll take that. Commodore,” said Dawes absently. 

“All right, you gentlemen hear the bet,” said the Com- 
modore, finessing his queen. The game went on, and was 
finally won by Dawes and his partner. 

Madeleine gave the signal to Grace, and supper was an- 
nounced, which stopped the play. 

The Commodore was now in good humor again, and 
chuckled and rubbed his hands. “ Tell you what. Miss 
Cateret,” he said to Madeleine as he took her into the 
dining-room, “ if Daw'es bites that fly I threw him. I’ll buy 
you a ring as handsome as those solitaires you wear. Allow 
me,” and putting on his eyeglasses he inspected them care- 
fully, and Madeleine’s rosy ear at the same time, “ beau- 
ties,” he exclaimed, “but if he just nibbles, I’ll match 
them for you.” 

“Now, Commodore,” laughed Madeleine, “you mustn’t 
talk whist talk to a young lady who doesn’t understand 
the technical phrases of the game ! ” 

“ AVhist talk, whist talk, Dawes will find that’s no whist 
talk. Bless my soul, child, that’s business,” and looking 
around quickly he said, “ if he keeps shorting the market, 
he’ll land in the poorhouse, Miss Cateret.” 

“ Dear me ! ” said Madeleine, “ I hope he won’t lose all 
his money. How is that possible and he so rich ? ” This 
seemed to amuse the old gentleman greatly. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


106 

1 “What a little innocent you are, child; that man thinks 
I don’t mean what I say, but there’s where he is mistaken; 
you watch N. Y. 0. and when she begins to soar, walk 
into Tiffany’s, and look at his diamonds; but pshaw! 
you don’t understand these things, let’s go in to supper.” 

Had Commodore Vanderfelt for one instant imagined 
that that seemingly innocent, ox-eyed girl at his side, with 
whom he was slightly impatient that she did not entirely 
understand his technical phrases, not only understood 
them, but treasured them up for future use, he would have 
cursed himself for his imbecile loquacity. As it was 
Madeleine had now obtained her desire, and when she en- 
tered the supper room leaning on the Commodore’s arm, 
and looking so deliciously innocent, and charming, it 
would have been a keen judge of human nature who be- 
lieved her other than she seemed. 

Grace accused her of flirting with the Commodore, but 
Madeleine denied the imputation, and declared she was 
trying to keep one of the Commodore’s friends out of the 
poorhouse. At which remark of Madeleine the now jovial 
Commodore laughed until his florid countenance was suf- 
fused with blood and he looked on the verge of apoplexy. 
After supper was served, Madeleine was preparing to take 
her leave, when Mr. Dawes came up and entered into con- 
versation with her. 

“Great joke that about the ‘ poorhouse,’ Miss Cateret, 
the Commodore seems to enjoy it. Which of his friends, 
pray, has he destined for that delectable abode ? ” 

Madeleine looked at Mr. Dawes, and Mr. Dawes’ sphinx- 
like countenance took on the appearance of one who had 
swallowed a suspicious oyster. The contrast between the 
two was immeasurably great. He small, dark, self-cen- 
tred and reticent. She gay, fresh, magnificent in her 
youthful beauty, but equally self-contained. 

“ I am quite sure, Mr. Dawes, I shall see you again soon,” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


107 

Madeleine remarked, adjusting her wraps and ignoring 
entirely his question, which Mr. Dawes was too wise to re- 
peat. He bade her good-night, and returned to the card 
room. 

“ Charming girl, but very deep, I must see her again, 
and I shan’t have to look her up either,” he muttered. 

Madeleine said good-night to Grace, and entering the 
carriage was driven rapidly home. She did not retire im- 
mediately, but when she did some hours later, she had set- 
tled in her mind what Mr. Dawes was to “ bite.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


108 


CHAPTER XI. 

A PURELY BUSINESS MATTER. 

“ Papa,” inquired Madeleine, the next morning at the 
breakfast table, “ who is Mr. Dawes ? ” 

“ Dawes, oh, he’s one of the big guns on Change, he’s a 
director in several railroads, a stock broker and a million- 
aire. He operates largely, but is very quiet about it.” 

“ Is he a great friend of Commodore Yanderfelt’s, papa ? ” 
“ Well, as to that, it‘s hard to say, they operate together, 
but either wouldn’t hesitate to cut the other’s throat, if he 
could benefit by it, or to gain a point. They are a pair of 
sharks, and any one who doesn’t wish to lose money had 
better steer clear of them.” 

“Commodore Vanderfelt was at the Richmonds last 
night, papa, and what is more, he was very attentive to 
your daughter.” 

“ Why shouldn’t he be, Maddy ? Who was Commodore 
Vanderfelt, before he made his money ? My daughter is 
good enough, I hope, to associate with any of these New 

York people. My father’s father ” 

“There, papa, never mind about our ancestors,” cried 
Madeleine, “the living present, is the important thing to 
be considered. As I was telling you, Commodore Vander- 
fclt was very gracious to me, and took me in to supper. 
He is very wealthy, is he not ? ” 

“ Immensely : but he is too arrogant and consequential 
co suit me. Well, I’m off, now, my dear, can I do any- 
thing for you in town ? ” he added jauntily. 

“Nothing, papa, thank you, I am going out myself,” and 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


IO9 


as Mr. Cateret disappeared through the front door, Made- 
leine went up-stairs and soon returned equipped for the 
street, and bearing a little parcel in her hand. 

This conversation with her father had not been without 
an object. Over night Madeleine had conceived a plan of 
action. She was now thoroughly given over to the desire 
to acquire money. There was no sentiment in her soul, 
neither was she sordid; money was nothing to her; except 
so far as it would gratify her ambitions. She saw the 
power these men possessed ; it tormented her that there 
could be existences more potent than her own. Not that 
she undervalued her great beauty. Had not that power 
been tested often enough ? But this was something differ- 
ent; the mention of the fact that these men possessed mil- 
lions, invested them immediately in the mind of the listener 
with a halo such as surrounds the possessor of an heredi- 
tary title of nobility. We look at them with curiosity, 
wonder, and a vague longing; a desire to envelop ourselves 
with the same mantle of superiority. Madeleine felt this 
longing, her questions to her father were preparatory to the 
springing of her mine. But under the feet of which of 
these Croesuses was she to toss the bomb ? Where could she 
make it most effective for her own personal aggrandize- 
ment ? She held a finely woven thread with which she 
hoped to win her way out of this labyrinth of poverty into 
the bright daylight of assured wealth and position. Her 
very ignorance made her bold; and when she left the 
house, and called a cab, it was with the feeling that her 
intuitions had not deceived her. 

"Drive to Mr. Tatum’s office, 14 Beaver Street,” she 
said to the coachman, and sank back in the carriage. A 
few moments brought them to Mr. Tatum’s office. When 
Madeleine entered, the old Harpagon was amusing him- 
self by abusing his book-keeper. 

" D n you, Wheelock, you must get here earlier morn- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


i iO 

mgs, d’you think I pay you a thousand a year to loaf like 
this ? ” 

“ Eight hundred, Mr. Tatum,” said the book-keeper re- 
spectfully. 

" Well, eight hundred or ten hundred, it's a plaguey sight 
more’n you’re worth.” 

" I told you, Mr. Tatum, that one of my children was 
very ill last night, and I was up so late I overslept, I am 
very sorry ” 

"Shut up! what have I got to do with your sickly 
brats ” 

Just then he caught sight of Madeleine, who had entered 
quietly and heard his abuse of the book-keeper. Mr. 
Wheelock, whose back was turned, had not seen her, and 
was about to resent Tatum’s heartless abuse, when he re- 
ceived a kick from the old man, who started to meet the 
young lady. His hateful countenance now struggled with 
a forced attempt at gayety and jocoseness, in an endeavor 
to appear pleased at her appearance. 

" Unexpected pleasure. Miss Cateret, I’m sure,” he re- 
marked in his oiliest tones, at the same time a little in 
doubt what this early visit portended. 

"Are you sure it’s a pleasure, Mr. Tatum ? ” inquired 
Madeleine, disposed to punish him a little. 

" Why — why — certainly, that is, of course, a great pleas- 
ure, young ladies don’t often come to see us <?ld fellows, 
except they come on business,” and the old fellow looked 
inquiringly as if he could read in her face what this early 
visit did mean. 

"Yes, that’s it, Mr. Tatum, I did come on business. 
Can I see you in private a few moments ? ” 

" Certainly, Miss Cateret,” he replied, dropping his face- 
tious tone, and adopting a cold business-like one. " Step 
into my private office, if you please.” 

Just at this moment he looked for all the world like a 


NOT TO Tllfi SWIFT. 


iii 

suspicious bird. Ilis head was cocked on one side, as if 
looking for the “ early worm.” 

“ Will you walk into my parlor,” came into Madeleine’s 
mind, and she smiled, for with the prescient eye of youth 
and conlidence, she saw a big fly of the blue-bottle order, 
thrashing around in a delicately woven web, and knocking 
it all to pieces, while a mean, yellow, little spider is flying 
for dear life. 

“ Mr. Tatum, I wish to borrow some money,” was her 
abrupt method of commencing the interview. The old 
man was seated near her, and engaged in rubbing his hands 
over his thin, brown hair as if it were out of place; this 
sudden attack upon his pocket, discomposed him a little; 
he kept up the rubbing process, however, as if to gain a 
little time to think. Madeleine looked at him steadily. 
His old wrinkled face in the morning sunlight reminded 
her of a railroad map. 

“Hum!” he ejaculated finally, looking at her, “you 
have already borrowed a goodish sum, the property won’t 
bear any more ! ” His head shook, and he assumed a dismal, 
forbidding look, implying it was of no use to discuss the 
question : Madeleine thought differently, however. 

“ Oh ! I don’t mean on the house, Mr. Tatum, don’t dis- 
tress yourself, I shall offer perfect security for the loan ; ” 
and Madeleine opened the parcel she carried and disclosed 
a small box which she placed on the table before Mr. Tatum. 

“ I have here a pair of solitaire earrings, the finest gems 
which could be bought at Tiffany’s, a pearl necklace, a 
bracelet of rubies and diamonds, and some old-fashioned 
jewelry I ” 

“Let me see them, let me see them, Miss Cateret,” said 
the old man, his eyes twinkling, as he rubbed one hand 
over the other in eager anticipation. The deliberate utter- 
ance of Madeleine about diamonds and pearls, and rubies, 
aroused the cupidity of the old man. Here were collaterals 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


112 

he could keep in his possession, lock up in his safe, and 
gloat over. 

Madeleine applied the key and raised the lid. Tatum’s 
eyes snapped as he saw the two stones, as large as filberts, 
lying on top, on a bed of cotton, but he restrained himself; 
it would never do to exhibit anxiety. He tipped back in 
his chair, and gazed at the two sparkling gems, just turn- 
ing his head from one side to the other, as he caught the 
brilliant scintillations, but remained impassive. 

Madeleine paid no attention to him, however, but re- 
moved the stones, placing them on the table on their cotton 
bed. Next came the pearl necklace which she was about 
to place beside the stones, when Mr. Tatum stretched out 
his withered hand and grasped it. 

“ Very pretty,” he remarked indifferently, but he handled 
it lovingly, and laid it down reluctantly. Madeleine then 
emptied the box. Besides the bracelet was a rich, but old- 
fashioned brooch, and earrings, and three or four finger 
rings tied together by a thread. The whole collection was 
a fine display. By this time Mr. Tatum had approached 
the table and was handling the stones. 

“ What do these weigh. Miss Cateret ? But never mind, 
women never know how we judge of these things.” 

He breathed on them, and watched the moisture disaj> 
pear, then he examined them with a magnifying glass, 
picked up the necklace, took out his penknife, and 
scratched two or three of the largest pearls, nodded his 
head, as if satisfied they were genuine, tumbled over the 
other things carelessly, shoved back his chair, and looking 
at Madeleine with a curious expression in his little, beady 
eyes, he inquired how much she wanted to borrow. 

“ I want twenty-five hundred dollars, Mr. Tatum,” said 
Madeleine bravely. The beady eyes became glassy, almost 
stony, and he‘ shook his head, with a little, tremulous, 
deprecatory motion, as if pitying her innocence. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


1 13 

“ Too much, far too much, my dear,” he said, with a dis- 
gusting familiarity, which made Madeleine’s flesh creep, 
and caused her to long to put the things away, and give 
up the pursuit of wealth, but she was far too determined 
to yield so readily. The delicate alae of her nostrils quiv- 
ered, and curled a little, when the next moment, he patted 
her hand which rested on the arm of the chair. Had the 
old man seen the wicked look which came into the young 
girl’s face then he would have paused to think it over; it 
would have been well for him if he had yielded to her 
wishes, or refused altogether. 

Only for one moment, and not long enough for him to 
note it, did her face reveal the real condition of her mind. 
Like a flash she thought, " I want the money, and he shall 
give it to me,” then she put out her hand and laid her 
white plump fingers on his shrivelled, discolored wrist. The 
touch seemed to electrify the old mummy, and a devilish 
leer, which she did not notice, darted from his bleared op- 
tics. He grinned, and retracted his thin lips, disclosing 
those horrible, yellow teeth. 

" Fifteen hundred, my dear, fifteen hundred, is the best 
I can do for you,” and he leaned back and surveyed Made- 
leine who laughed merrily. 

"You despicable old miser! Tiffany will give me that 
for the stones alone.” 

"Well, I must say you are a cool one for a young lady. 
Miss Madeleine, why don’t you take them to Tiffany ? ” 

" For the best of reasons, my dear Mr. Tatum, I don’t 
care to have them know I need money. Come, now decide 
quickly or I shall take them to some one else,” she added. 

Tatum hesitated; he knew the value of the jewels but 
he loved his money. Rising from his chair he opened the 
door and called his office boy, then picking up the two 
stones, the pearl necklace and bracelet, he put them in the 
box and whispered a word to the boy who hurried away. 

8 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


1 14 

Mr. Tatum resumed his seat and picked up the remaining 
jewelry, looking it over carefully. 

"These things are worth about two hundred dollars, 
they are old-fashioned, and I could hardly get that for 
them.” 

"You don't for a moment think, Mr. Tatum, that I 
should ever allow you to sell them ? ” said Madeleine a 
little sharply. " I had rather sacrifice the house,” and her 
eyes flashed ominously on the old shark, who instantly saw 
he had gone too far, for he was already gloating over the 
fact that the Caterets were getting deeper and deeper in 
his debt, and the house would soon fall into his hands. 
Nor had the thought, that just possibly, old, shrunken, and 
hideous as he was, he might at some time, through their 
dire necessity, get this young and lovely girl into his power, 
failed to cross his mind, and he lingered over the idea. 
Old, decrepit, almost mildewed as he was, the fire and pas- 
sion of youth was not entirely dulled. " I'll make her an 
old man's darling,” he thought, as he screwed up his face, 
and worked the stiffened muscles into the semblance of a 
smile. 

" Of course not, of course not,” he replied in answer to 
her query, "but people who loan money, must be cautious; 
all sorts of traps are laid for us!” Just then he looked 
furtively at Madeleine, and despite his coolness he felt un- 
easy as he saw a strange look in her eye. 

" I mean ” 

" You mean what, Mr. Tatum ? That I came here to 
trick and hoodwink you ? Are the jewels not genuine ? 
Do you think to loan me less than I wish, and then throw 
out these vile insinuations ? Get the stones back, and I 
will not trouble you, others will be willing if you are not,” 
and Madeleine arose from her chair. 

" Stop, stop. Miss Madeleine, not so fast,” cried the old 
man in desperation, fearing he would lose the loan, “ Make 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


115 

it eighteen hundred, won’t that do ? ” And the crafty old 
fox watched her slyly. Just then the boy returned, and 
handed the box and a slip of paper to Mr. Tatum, who 
placed the box on the table, and opening the paper in the 
hollow of his hand glanced at it, then crumpled it up, and 
dropped it on the floor. 

“ Come, Miss Madeleine, sit down again, we can arrange 
the money, eighteen hundred, is it ? It’s a large sum,” he 
muttered, “ I must have five per cent, a month,” and he 
began to examine the stones, while Madeleine stooping 
quickly, picked up the bit of paper he had dropped, and 
smoothing it out read “ stones worth two thousand, neck- 
lace fifteen hundred, bracelet three hundred.” 

Madeleine resumed her seat, holding the paper so Mr. 
Tatum could see it, which he did, instantly. 

“That’s mine,” he cried, reaching for it. Madeleine 
handed it to him. 

“ I am glad to learn the real value of the things,” she 
said smilingly. “ I see an expert values them at thirty-eight 
hundred dollars, I find upon second thought, I need just 
twenty-two hundred dollars, if you will give me your check 
for that amount, I will leave all but the old-fashioned 
jewelry, which you do not want.” 

The old man saw he was trapped, and by a mere girl. 
This did not please him, but there was no help for it; he 
saw Madeleine was determined. 

T( I took her for a pretty, little fool, and she is as sharp 
as a needle,” he thought, “pity her father hasn’t her head.” 

“Well, Miss Cateret, if you must have the twenty-two 
hundred,” he said with a sigh, and picking up the jewelry 
he put it in the box, while Madeleine returned her mother’s 
rings and brooch to her bag. 

“ Wheelock, write a check for twenty-two hundred dol- 
lars, payable to bearer,” and picking up the box he left the 
room in a rage, while Madeleine, quite satisfied with her 


Ii6 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


experience in the “ spider’s web,” sat a few moments, until 
he returned and handed her the check, which she folded 
and placed deliberately in her purse and with a jaunty 
“ good-morning, Mr. Tatum,” left the room. She had 
hardly left the office, and was tripping lightly along to 
where the carriage was standing on the opposite side of the 
street, when a voice at her elbow said : 

“ I beg your pardon, Miss.” Madeleine looked around, 
and saw Wheelock, the poor book-keeper. 

“ Can I say one word to you, my dear young lady ? ” he 
inquired. 

“ Why, certainly, what is it you wish to speak about ? ” 

Mr. Wheelock came close up to her. “ Look out for Mr. 
Tatum, Miss, he is a hard-hearted man, and if you do not 
pay him in three months, you will never see your diamonds 
again.” 

Madeleine looked at the miserable, trembling creature at 
her side. 

“Do not fear for me, Mr. Wheelock, thank you for ^our 
kindness, I won’t forget it,” and Madeleine entered her 
carriage and drove to the bank. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


II 7 


CHAPTER XII. 

MADELEINE TRUSTS HER SECRET TO TWO PEOPLE. 

After having had her check cashed, Madeleine drove 
directly to her father’s office, knowing that at that time 
he would most likely be “ on change,” nor was she disap- 
pointed. Her light footfall on the stairs was not heard by 
Augustus Duck, who was seated on his high stool, and en- 
gaged just then in chewing the end of a penholder. Gus 
was given to philosophy, but it was of the practical sort, 
and not at all fatiguing to his mind. The noise Madeleine 
made in opening the door, caused him to turn quickly 
with a guilty start, as if detected in some nefarious scheme. 

With one motion he swung himself clear off the stool, 
and running his hand over his hair, he dropped it to his 
mouth and secretly removed an enormous quid of tobacco 
which he deposited in the waste-paper basket. 

“ Good-morning, Augustus,” said Madeleine pleasantly. 
This affability was too much for “ Gus,” whom Madeleine 
had heretofore always addressed as Mr. Duck. He blushed 
from his long, red hands up to the roots of his hair, but it 
was with pleasure. He tried to speak, but his “ voice stuck 
in his throat.” 

“ Papa is out, is he ? ” inquired his visitor. 

“Ye — yes. Miss Cateret,” Gus managed to say, shifting 
from one foot to the other, as if his feet pained him — “ he 
— he’s on Change.” 

“Augustus,” this time more sweetly, “can you keep a 
secret ? ” 


1 18 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ You just try me. Miss Cateret, horses couldn’t drag one 
of your secrets out of me.” 

“Well, Augustus” — this time a ravishing smile accom- 
panied her utterance of his name — “ I want you to do some- 
thing for me.” Madeleine reached into her hag, and drew 
out a large roll of bills; to these she added the eight hun- 
dred dollars which she had left from the draft to Mother 
Cornichon. 

“ Here are three thousand dollars, Augustus, I want you 
to take this to papa, and tell him to buy one thousand 
shares of New York Central stock for Mr. Charles Kenner 
who left the money here.” 

Gus thought a moment, his quick wits were at work. 

“ Don’t you think it would be better if I had a note 
from Mr. Kenner, authorizing the purchase of the stock ? 
You see we must open an account in the books in Mr. 
Kenner’s name. Miss Oateret.” 

"Very good, Augustus, I will write the note, if you will 
give me some paper.” 

“ Can you use a quill, Miss Cateret ? ” 

“ I’ll try, Augustus, I see you understand the necessity 
for absolute secrecy.” Madeleine took the quill and soon 
turned out a very bold, and dashing request for the pur- 
chase of the stock; and signed it Charles Kenner. 

“ Ho you think you can describe Mr. Kenner to papa, 
Augustus ? ” 

“ I am quite sure I can. He is a tall, dark gentleman, 
with a full beard, a very handsome man I should say.” 
His effort brought another blush to Gus’ face. 

“ Well done, very well done, Augustus, that is a capital 
description. I know him well, he is in a great hurry, must 
go out of town for a few days, and cannot stop to see Mr. 
Cateret, but hopes to do so at some future time. He will 
telegraph, or write instructions, that is all — stay, Augustus, 
tell Mr. Cateret that additional margins will be forthcom- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


ii9 


ing if necessary — you had better run over now,” and Made- 
leine went out with him. Gus opened the door of the 
carriage and took off his hat politely. 

“ Tell the driver to stop at Mr. James Dawes’ office, on 
William Street, Augustus, if you please.” Gus gave the 
required directions, and hurried off to find Mr. Cateret. 

When Madeleine arrived at Mr. Dawes’ office he was not 
in, but the manager, at Madeleine’s urgent request, sent a 
boy on “ Change ” for him, while she re-entered the car- 
riage, and waited, leaning back quietly, and studying what 
she should say to the great speculator. 

What she had accomplished so far, was simple, compared 
to what lay before her. She was about undertaking to 
make use of a wealthy, shrewd, astute business man. She 
was about to match herself with one of the great leaders 
in the stock market. This man was a recognized power 
in a market which is not surpassed by any market in the 
world, for the shrewdness, cunning, and long-sightedness 
of its members; and she, a young inexperienced girl, must 
match herself with one of the keenest of them ! 

But Madeleine had one advantage over the cool, clear- 
headed, business man, she had something he wanted, and 
she knew it, and knew its value. “ Would he buy ? ” That 
was the question. 

Madeleine had not long to wait; Mr. Dawes approached 
the door of the carriage, immediately recognized her, and 
apparently without any surprise. He begged her to alight, 
but she was loth to do this, fearing she might be noticed, 
and therefore requested him to enter the carriage, and give 
her a few moments of his valuable time, as she had a com- 
munication to make to him. 

Mr. Dawes without hesitation entered the carriage, and, 
at Madeleine’s request, directed the driver to proceed slowly 
up the Bowery. 

“You do not seem surprised to see me, Mr. Dawes,” re- 
marked Madeleine. 


120 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


" Nor am I entirely. Miss Cateret, you made a remark at 
Mr. Richmond’s which I think I rightly interpreted, that 
we should see each other again soon ; am I correct ? ” 

" Perfectly, Mr. Dawes, I intended then to make this 
call, and you probably know my motive.” 

" Not entirely, it has reference to Commodore Vander- 
felt’s allusion to the poorhouse, has it not ? ” 

" Somewhat,” said Madeleine smiling. " I did not tell 
you that you were the gentleman the Commodore referred 
to, as liable to land in the poorhouse, but you were.” 

"And is that all, Miss Cateret ? ” said Mr. Dawes a little 
impatiently, " my time is very valuable at this hour of the 
day.” 

"No, Mr. Dawes, that is not all; would it be of any use 
to you to know which way New York Central stock is 
going ? ” 

Mr. Dawes looked keenly at Madeleine. 

" Can you tell me this, Miss Cateret ? Remember there 
must be no trifling.” 

Anxious as Madeleine was to bring her plan to a success- 
ful conclusion, she had too much pride and dignity not to 
resent this insinuation. Her eyes grew cold, and she froze 
Mr. Dawes with one look. 

"Mr. Dawes forgets himself; this is not on ‘ Change/ 
and I am no supplicant for his bounty. You can stop the 
carriage, Mr. Dawes; there are gentlemen in the market 
aside from Mr. James T. Dawes.” 

" One moment, Miss Cateret, and then I will leave you 
if you so desire,” replied Mr. Dawes. "lama plain busi- 
ness man, and possibly in business hours a little curt. I 
trust you will forgive me. If you have valuable informa- 
tion of the nature you hint at, you will find no more liberal- 
handed man to deal with than myself.” 

Madeleine allowed the severity of her manner to relax. 

"Now we are coming to business, Mr. Dawes. I repeat 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


121 


my question; would the knowledge, the absolute knowl- 
edge, that New York Central is to advance, or decline, 
benefit you ? ” 

“ It would he of incalculable benefit,” replied Mr. Dawes 
emphatically. Mindful of her former blunder, Madeleine 
looked at him steadily. 

“ Would it be of any benefit to me, if I gave you the in- 
formation you seek ? ” Mr. Dawes cast one quick inquiring 
glance at Madeleine’s face, then he said, slowly weighing 
each word : 

“It would mean one thousand shares of that stock, 
bought or sold for your account, and margined by me five 
cents either way; is that satisfactory, Miss Cateret?” 

“ Perfectly, Mr. Dawes,” replied Madeleine, “ New York 
Central will advance from ten to twelve points, and possi- 
bly more.” 

Then she narrated the entire conversation as it occurred 
between herself and Commodore Vanderfelt. 

“ This is exactly as it occurred, is it. Miss Cateret ? ” 

“ Exactly, I made a note of it that evening, after return- 
ing home, intending to see you, here it is,” taking out her 
purse and unfolding a slip of paper. 

“ May I ask you one question. Miss Cateret ? ” 

“Ask me any question a gentleman may ask, and I will 
answer, Mr. Dawes.” 

“Your father is a stock broker, is he not ? ” 

“He is.” 

“ Have you told him of this conversation ? ” 

“ I have not, nor any one, except yourself.” 

“Will you pledge me your word not to tell any one of 
our interview or its purport ? ” 

“I will.” 

“ Do you know what the market is this morning ? ” 

“About 79 I think.” 

“ It is 77, it is off two points, I am ten thousand shares 


122 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


short, and intend to ‘ double up/ I shall now buy it in, 
and take the long side. I will purchase immediately one 
thousand shares for your account, and margin it five 
cents.” 

“ One moment, Mr. Dawes,” interrupted Madeleine, 
“ keep that account in the name of Charles Kenner, if you 
please.” 

“ If you wish it, certainly.” 

Madeleine took out her pencil and wrote in a bold hand, 
" Charles Kenner, care of Mr. C. Rogers, Bank of Amer- 
ica.” “ That is my address.” 

Mr. Dawes took the slip of paper which Madeleine 
handed him, looked at it a moment reflectively, and then 
at her. 

"What is it, Mr. Dawes?” inquired Madeleine, antici- 
pating his desire. The nearest approach to a smile which 
she had yet seen, hovered around the corners of his mouth. 

"I thought I should like to ask you if you conceived 
this plan yourself, or were prompted by some one else. I 
confess it is so altogether unusual, it has been carried 
through in so business-like a manner, and is so suggestive 
of an old head at the helm, I should like to know if I am 
dealing with a woman’s intuition, or the cunningly devised 
scheme of some shrewd manipulator of the market.” 

He paused and looked at his companion. Madeleine 
saw instantly that Mr. Dawes feared he was falling into a 
trap, which he fancied the old Commodore himself had 
laid for him ; she saw that nothing but the utmost frank- 
ness would enable her to carry out her plan, and seeing 
this, decided instantly to take Mr. Dawes into her confi- 
dence. In a few words she told him her desires and hopes, 
sketched her father’s character so that he might under- 
stand her motives, and then narrated the story of the 
pledging of her jewels, and the purchase through her father 
in the name of Charles Kenner of one thousand shares of 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 1 23 

stock that morning before seeing him. Mr. Dawes here 
interrupted her recital. 

“ It is quite enough, Miss Cateret, I admire your pluck 
more than I can tell you. Few men or women could have 
conceived this plan, fewer could have brought it as far as 
you did when I began to distrust you; and fewer yet have 
known when the time came to be entirely frank in regard 
to the motive of the transaction. You have won my com- 
plete confidence. And now I must hasten back to com- 
mence our operations. I need not suggest perfect secrecy. 
Watch the market and let me hear from you soon.” 

Mr. Dawes left the carriage, stopped a down-town car, 
and was soon in Wall Street. He received confirmation of 
Madeleine’s story, when he learned that his house had sold 
Mr. Cateret one thousand shares of New York Central at 
77. The market then was a trifle higher, and .he com- 
menced through his brokers to buy back his “ short stock.” 
Very carefully were the purchases conducted, in order not 
to disturb the market. Before the day was over, he had 
bought in all his “ shorts,” and had secured a few thousand 
shares of “ long stock,” one thousand of which went down 
in his book to the credit of Charles Kenner; the market 
was back at 79. 

“ I say, Cateret,” said his friend “ Silver,” “ let me have 
your check for one thousand, I’ll give it back to you to- 
morrow.” 

“ I’ll let you have a thousand in currency, Silver,” re- 
plied the easy-going Cateret, “ but I must have it to-mor- 
row.” 

" Sure, Cateret.” 

"I’d see, that Albino a long way off, before he’d get any 
thousand dollars out of me,” muttered Gus, who stood by, 
and heard the conversation. 

“ I hope the bloody market will just climb for the next 
month, I don’t want to see Mr. Kenner lo e anything.” 


124 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


When Mr. Cateret came home that night he was in great 
spirits, and told Madeleine of his new customer, Mr. Ken- 
ner. “A handsome, black-bearded fellow, Gus says, hut 
awfully reckless; anyhow the market has gone his way to- 
day, lie’s two thousand better off than this morning.” 
Madeleine smiled. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


125 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A TEST OF STRENGTH. 

The next few weeks passed along rather uneventfully 
for Madeleine, who had come to crave a little excitement. 
She saw her father was in greater straits than ever for 
money, occasionally he even appeared down-hearted, but 
the natural elasticity and optimistic bent of his mind, 
lifted him quickly from his “ slough of despond.” 

He came home one evening late in August, in appar- 
ently the greatest dejection, sank his hands deep into his 
pockets, and paced the floor. The evening paper lay un- 
folded upon the table, and his cigar remained unlighted 
between his lips. His eyes were vacantly fixed on the 
floor, and a heavy sigh, escaping his breast at intervals, in- 
dicated more than anything else the perturbed state of his 
mind. 

Madeleine was unusually joyous, for she had constantly 
added to her holdings of New York Central, until she now 
held ten thousand shares of the stock; and a letter from 
Mr. Dawes informed her the market was 84 and advised 
her to double her investment. When Madeleine entered 
the library it was with the intention of writing a note to 
Mr. Dawes instructing him to purchase ten thousand 
shares more of New York Central. 

“ Good-evening, papa,” she said pleasantly, as she took 
her seat at the desk and picked up a pen. No response 
from Cateret pere. Madeleine did not appear to notice that 
he had made no reply, and commenced her note. Glanc- 
ing at his daughter and noticing her absorption, Mr. Cate- 


126 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


ret emitted a subdued groan, as if he would say, "my 
charming daughter, you are happy, you have no cares and 
responsibilities, but look at me, see how miserable I am, 
remark the weight which is crushing .me ! ” 

Madeleine wrote on, and her father became desperate. 
It wasn’t natural for him to bear a burden without calling 
some one’s attention to the annoyance it gave him. He 
would have shifted it without the slightest hesitation to 
his daughter’s shoulders, and then pitied her that she bore 
so great a load. Anywhere, away from his own weak back ! 

Madeleine had long determined in her own mind that a 
salutary lesson would be necessary, before her father would 
mend his careless habits. He had been taking matters 
altogether too easily, his embarrassed position required 
more attention and care than he was devoting to it, and a 
little wholesome worry would not be a bad thing, she 
thought; hence her assumed indifference. 

But matters were coming to a crisis. Madeleine wrote 
away unconcernedly, and papa Cateret, finding no notice 
taken of his sighs and groans, thumped the table with his 
fist and burst out: 

"Maddy, I can’t stand this.” 

" Stand what, papa ? ” replied Madeleine, " why are you 
so violent — are you ill, in pain ? Aunt Sally will fix you 
up a mustard plaster in no time.” 

"Aunt Sally be d d.” 

"How, papa, that won’t do, this is not f Change Alley,”’ 
cried Madeleine with some severity. 

"I am sorry I am so violent, my dear, but I am in trou- 
ble,” replied Mr. Cateret very mildly. 

"Well, papa, out with it, I have been waiting patiently 
for the last half-hour to learn what it was; it’s money, isn’t 
it, or the lack of it ? ” 

" Why, Maddy, child, how did you know that ? I am sure 
I never mention any money trouble to you,” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


127 


“ No, but I have known for some time that you needed 
my help, now do not hesitate again, tell me what this espe- 
cial case is.” 

"Well, you see, Maddy, that confounded * Silver/ bor- 
rowed a thousand dollars of me five or six weeks ago, and 
promised to repay it next day, but I can’t get a dollar from 
him. I am carrying on a big deal for Mr. Kenner, he has 
a profit of some cents on five thousand shares of New York 
Central stock, and at any time he may ask me to close the 
deal and demand a settlement. It worries me awfully,” 
and her poor father groaned. 

“ Is that all, papa ? ” inquired Madeleine. 

“All ! I believe you girls think money grows on trees, 
and we have only to pick it off.” And again he began his 
tramp up and down the library. 

“ Papa! ” said Madeleine, resting her elbow on the desk, 
and holding the end of the penholder between her pearly 
teeth in a reflective manner, “sit down here by me.” 

Mr. Cateret complied. He had long since found out 
that there was only one will in the house, and that was 
Madeleine’s. 

“ If I help you out of your present trouble, will you give 
me your solemn promise not to loan any one money again, 
and never to use a dollar of money belonging to your cus- 
tomers ? ” 

“Yes, indeed, Maddy,” replied her father humbly, “I 
have had a good lesson ; why, I couldn’t smoke to-day, I 
have been so worried. Every mail I expected a letter from 
Mr. Kenner, or perhaps he might drop in himself, just 
think of it! He has made a profit of twenty-eight thou- 
sand dollars, and don’t take it; that man has great nerve! ” 

“ You say you have seen him, papa ? ” 

“ Never yet laid eyes on him.” 

“ Strange, how do you get your orders ? ” 

“ Oh, he writes me at the office,” 


128 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


"By the way, that reminds me,” said Madeleine, 
" there is a letter for you somewhere, left here this after- 
noon, I hope it is not from him.” And Madeleine pulled 
out a letter from under some papers on the desk, and 
handed it to her father, who no sooner saw it than his face 
grew pale and he cried, " 0 Lord ! I knew it, it is Mr. 
Kenner’s handwriting. It is all up with me now,” and 
his hands trembled as he turned it over apparently not 
daring to open it. 

" Let me see it,” said Madeleine, " why, it’s on some of 
my paper,” she exclaimed as she opened it, "I remember 
now, Millie said he stepped into the library and wrote it 
here. I’m sorry I missed seeing him.” 

" Never mind where it was written, Maddy, read it, read 
it,” cried the now thoroughly terrified Mr. Cateret. Made- 
leine read : 

“Mr. Cateret, 

"Dear Sir: — I have just a moment to write you, and 
your house being nearer than your office, I have called 
here. The market has had a wonderful advance, but not 
unexpected by me. A prudent man usually closes his deal 
when he has a profit.” 

[" Oh, dear ! it’s coming now,” groaned poor Mr. Cateret, 
but Madeleine read, right on.] 

" I think differently, however. I believe it’s to be just 
the beginning of the advance, you will therefore buy me 
five thousand shares more New York Central at the open- 
ing in the morning. 

"Yours truly, 

" Charles Kenner.” 

"Well, papa, it seems that Mr. Kenner still intends to 
hold on; I suppose it is a great relief to you ?” 

" Indeed it is, Maddy, that man must be immensely rich, 
or he is a born gambler — or a fool, I don’t know which. 


129 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 

No one else would take such desperate chances; he evi- 
dently does not need money, Pve half a mind to take a 
little flyer myself, before I buy his five thousand.” 

“Papa,” said Madeleine, “you do not mean that;” her 
father reddened under his daughter's severe, pained look. 

“AVell, Maddy, if you say not, I won't, the commission 
will be a nice little plum, but Maddy, how did you intend 
to get the money if he had ordered me to close his deal, 
pawn your diamonds, eh ? ” 

“ Never mind, papa, it won't be necessary.” 

“ Dear child,” said her father, stooping over and kissing 
her tenderly, “ how like your mother you are ! ” And his 
mind now relieved, he lighted his cigar and took his 
paper up. 

“ Gus,” said Mr. Cateret the next morning, when he en- 
tered the office, “ that Kenner is a thoroughbred, think of 
it, he wants me to double up his deal.” 

“ He seems a good one, don’t make us much trouble, or 
draw down his deposits,” responded Gus. “ Odd he doesn't 
come around oftener though.” 

“Very odd, but it suits me, Gus.” 

Madeleine did not send her order to Mr. Dawes until 
the forenoon was well advanced, wishing that her father 
should make his purchase first. The result was, that such 
large purchases started the market up, and at the close of 
Change the quotation for New York Central was 88 and 
Mr. Dawes buying all he could get, while the Commodore 
looked on smiling and muttered, “climb for it, Dawes, 
you'll want it worse yet.” 

That evening a carriage rolled rapidly up to the Caterets, 
and Mr. Dawes sent in his card. Mr. Cateret was at his 
club, and Madeleine received him in the library. No on- 
looker would have suspected that the two most important 
and powerful personages at this moment on the New York 
Stock Exchange had met for a consultation. 

9 


130 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Madeleine held a book, with the leaves half cut, in her 
hands as Mr. Dawes entered; she laid dowji neither the 
book nor even the paper cutter, but crossed the room to 
meet him, with all the ease and grace of an accomplished 
woman of the world. 

“ Take this easy-chair, Mr. Dawes, you will find it very 
comfortable. When I feel particularly lazy I take that 
chair; there is nothing so refreshing at times as absolute 
cold-blooded indolence, and from the action of the market 
to-day I fancy you must be rather tired and need a little 
indulgence.” 

Another one of those rare smiles relaxed Mr. Dawes* 
somewhat severe expression of countenance. 

“ Yes, the day has been an exciting one. Miss Oateret, 
and I confess that I feel the strain a little, but you sur- 
prise me, you do indeed/* and the hitherto reticent specu- 
lator really seemed inclined to become talkative — “ you are 
carrying a load which would weaken the nerve of almost 
any operator on the board, and to judge from your ap- 
pearance **— and the cool business man looked at Madeleine, 
admiringly — “one would say your most serious thought 
might be, whether you would continue and cut the leaves 
of that book, or take a nap before doing so.** 

Nothing showed that Madeleine was moved by the great 
compliment paid her, unless it were a restless glitter in her 
eyes, which almost seemed feverish. 

“ I was taught in a peculiar school, and under the scru- 
tiny and supervision of a remarkable man, Mr. Dawes, and 
I perhaps might say, for a particular purpose. I learned 
there, that one of the most essential requisites in the con- 
duct of one*s life is self-control — but you did not come 
here to learn about my education; if I am not mistaken 
you think it about time for us to dispose of our ‘ holdings,* 
am I right ? ** 

“ Exactly, exactly, Miss Cateret, although I am pleased 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


131 

to have had. this little explanation from you, I was some- 
what in doubt whether it was pure ignorance of the tre- 
mendous power you just now wield, or really, as I see it is, 
the result of studied self-repression. Your character is a 
remarkable one for a woman, and you have my sincere re- 
spect and admiration.” 

This, from a man like Mr. Dawes, was a great, a most 
extraordinary compliment, and Madeleine's cheeks flushed 
with the pleasure it gave her. However, Mr. Dawes did 
not come to pay compliments. 

“Our position is just this. Miss Cateret, we are holding 
an immense amount of stock, the market closed firm and 
very bullish, it will open higher in the morning and my 
advice is that we commence to liquidate. The f lambs' 
are all coming in, and I think we had better let them carry 
the load. Commodore Yanderfelt, I am sure, thinks me 
short ‘up to my eyes.' My proposition is, to employ a 
half-dozen shrewd brokers to sell for me, while I seem to 
be eager to buy; what do you think of the plan ?'' 

Madeleine thought a moment, then laid down her book, 
folded her hands in her lap, and fixed the most piercing 
gaze upon Mr. Dawes he had ever experienced. Her face 
was bloodless, and her lips tightly closed. He began to 
feel uncomfortable under this Medusa-like stare. When 
she did speak, her voice was calm, and as cold as if she 
were an automaton. 

“You must not sell yet, Mr. Dawes, it. is not time; your 
method is a good one, but you are too impatient. Com- 
modore Yanderfelt thinks you ‘ short,' the market will go 
from five to eight cents higher, five cents more means a 
hundred and fifty thousand dollars more for me, and per- 
haps twice as much for you ; am I right ? " 

“Your figures are right,'' replied Mr. Dawes uneasily. 

“ Yery well, we will wait for the advance.'' 

“But, Miss Cateret, I am satisfied with my profits.'' 


132 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


‘'And I am not with mine,” interrupted Madeleine. 

The perspiration stood out on Mr. Dawes’ forehead. For 
the first time in his life, he was held — tied, absolutely 
powerless to act, and controlled by a woman, too. 

“ Suppose I sell my stock, Miss Oateret, quietly, and hold 
yours ? ” he said, and a playful smile struggled to make 
itself perceptible on his face. 

"You must sell nothing, Mr. Dawes; at your first at- 
tempt to sell, I shall inform Commodore Vanderfelt of 
your position, and ask him to relieve me of my stock at 
any figure we can agree upon.” 

This was a terrific blow to Mr. Dawes, who could see no 
way out of it, and Madeleine instantly took advantage of 
her position. 

" I don’t think any such action will be necessary on my 

part, Mr. Dawes, you must see the folly of attempting to 

withdraw from the combination. I shall watch the market 

carefully, and tell you the right moment; it may be in a 

day or two. When I send you word to sell, it will be after 

I have learned what Commodore Vanderfelt is doinor.” 

© 

Mr. Dawes saw from Madeleine’s manner that she con- 
sidered the interview at an end, and immediately arose. 

“ Then I am to await word from you before selling, Miss 
Cateret ? ” 

"I believe that was the understanding, Mr. Dawes; be- 
lieve me, it will not be long in coming, and I am convinced 
that you will thank me for my decision.” 

And Madeleine, again the charming hostess, brought out 
her father’s excellent Havanas, and even lighted Mr. Dawes’ 
cigar for him, beamed on him with her lustrous eyes, and 
sent him away the most puzzled, baffled and mystified man 
in New York that night. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


133 


CHAPTER XIY. 

“and life was never the same again.” 

When Madeleine made the statement to Mr. Dawes, 
that she would have information from the Commodore 
himself, as to the probable course of the market, she had 
formed no plan, and no line of action had presented itself 
to her by which she could obtain the desired information. 
Although to Mr. Dawes she had exhibited traits of charac- 
ter which she was hardly conscious of possessing, the re- 
action from the nervous strain, left in her mind a feeling 
of doubt as to her ability to accomplish the feat of which 
she had boasted with so much confidence. She must make 
good her assertion, or suffer defeat, and defeat meant hu- 
miliation, if not loss of all she aspired to. What if Mr. 
Dawes should prove to be right, and the morning was the 
time to sell ? With each moment of irresolution or pro- 
crastination, a fortune might be slipping away from her, 
which now was within her grasp; to-morrow it might be 
gone forever. She tried to evolve some plan from the 
chaos in her mind; no sooner was one examined, than it 
was rejected. 

The urgency of the case irritated her, she felt that in 
matching herself with a man in such a contest, and this 
man remarkable even among his fellows, for his preter- 
natural cunning and shrewdness, she was at a disadvan- 
tage; he held all the strings, and she could only pull one 
— his intense desire to outwit the Commodore, and she had 
drawn this one to its utmost tension. 

What if he should throw her over, and go to the Com- 


134 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


modore himself ? A shudder ran through her frame; she 
was playing for a great stake, would she lose it ? The 
thought was maddening, and then a strange feeling of 
calmness came over her, such as conies to persons who face 
immediate destruction and have given up all hope; it w:;s 
a paralysis of motion accompanied with an intensity of 
thought almost superhuman. She was back in Paris, and 
heard Father Dorlon, the confessor of the Convent, say to 
her, “ my child, that fatal beauty of yours, is at once the 
source of the greatest danger, and an instrument of mar- 
vellous value in swaying human action. In its use, be wise 
as a serpent, and as harmless as a dove.” With a great 
effort she threw off the stupefying incubus which paralyzed 
her. 

Suddenly she ran to a long pier glass, which reached 
from the ceiling to the floor; stood in front of it and re- 
garded herself intently; her inventory was, “beautiful 
eyes, fine features, an exquisite complexion, and a wealth of 
black hair;” then she smiled, a most bewitching smile, 
her face flushed with pleasure, “ it will do,” she thought. 
Just then her father’s footsteps sounded in the hall; “so 
early,” she wondered, and looked at her watch; half-past 
eight. 

“What brings you home so early, papa, was the club 
stupid ? ” 

“ Hardly that, Maddy, there weren’t enough fellows to 
make it very lively though, all gone to hear Picolomini 
sing at the Academy.” 

Like lightning a thought passed through Madeleine’s 
mind. 

“And I wanted to hear her so much, papa, is it too late ? ” 

Papa looked at his watch, “ not too late if you wish to 
go, Maddy.” 

“I do indeed, I’ll dress in ten minutes; will you get a 
carriage f ” And Madeleine ran up-stairs. In ten minutes 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


135 


she was dressed, how, she never knew. Throwing a light 
opera cloak over her shoulders, she sprang into the car- 
riage, and they were soon at the Academy doors. 

“ The house is sold out,” was the ticket-sellers answer 
to Mr. Caterers request for seats; a disappointed look 
came over Mr. Caterers face. 

“It’s too late,” he muttered, and turned away to tell 
Madeleine. 

“Stop a moment, we have one box left, somebody ill, 
and the box is to be resold, will you have it, sir ?” 

“ Certainly I will,” replied Mr. Cateret, and soon they 
were seated in one of the proscenium boxes. When Made- 
leine looked around the house the first person she saw was 
Grace Richmond in the box opposite, with her father and 
mother. They recognized each other, and Grace shook 
her finger playfully at Madeleine. Just then the curtain 
ran up, and Picolomini came forward to sing in the second 
act. Ordinarily, Madeleine would have been delighted to 
hear her, hut her mind was preoccupied, and she was con- 
stantly scanning the house with her glass. 

The song was finished, the tremendous applause came, 
and in response, the prima-donna reappeared, bowed, and 
withdrew, but Madeleine did not see her. What she did 
see, was Commodore Yanderfelt just entering the Rich- 
mond box. 

Possibly Madeleine might have at that moment exercised 
her mind by intently wishing the Commodore to look her 
way, or it might have been Grace whispering to him. 
Whatever it was, he looked across, saw Madeleine, and 
bowed; and received in return a flutter of her fan, and a 
smile which, bestowed on a younger man, would have sent 
him to bed sleepless. Nor was it without its effect upon 
the Commodore. Madeleine saw in an instant that he in- 
tended to withdraw from the box, and turning to her father 
she said sweetly : 


36 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ Papa, you really ought to call a moment on the Rich- 
monds, I saw Grace beckon to you just now.” How natu- 
rally this was said ! 

“So I ought,” replied the juvenile Mr. Cateret, “but 
you would be all alone, Madeleine.” 

“ Oh, never mind that, perhaps Mr. Richmond or some 
one else will come in to see me.” 

Some one else did come in a few moments — the stately, 
handsome, old Commodore. 

“Just caught a glimpse of you. Miss Cateret, and couldn’t 
resist the temptation of coming around to see how my 
whist partner was to-night. I haven’t forgotten how much 
you added to our pleasant evening a while ago at the Rich- 
monds; nice family that, especially Miss Grace, great pet 
of mine, by the way.” 

“ How, Commodore, you are ungallant to come and see 
me, and tell me how much you admire my rival,” laughed 
Madeleine merrily. 

“Oh, there were no comparisons. Miss Cateret, none 
possible. Miss Grace is a lovely girl, but no queen.” 

Madeleine made a mock bow, and pouted her moist red 
lips. 

“Apropos of the Richmonds, have you landed that friend 
of yours in the poorhouse yet, that Mr. — Mr. ” 

“ Dawes, do you mean ? ” 

“ Yes, I think that was the name.” 

“ That reminds me. Miss Cateret, I don’t see those beau- 
tiful stones you wore that night.” 

Madeleine put up her hand to her ear, shrugged her 
shoulders, and laughed. 

“ I dressed in such a dreadful hurry to-night to come 
here, I forgot to wear them, Commodore.” 

“Well, you recollect my promise? I think I can say 
you will get the ring ! ” 

“How soon, pray, my dear Commodore Vanderfelt ?” 
said Madeleine incredulously. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


37 


“ Do you recollect my bet about the hat ? ” 

“Why, to be sure I do, something about some stock 
going up — let me see,” and she pretended to count on her 
taper fingers. 

“ I bet that a certain stock would go up ten, before it 
went down three, it has gone up nine, and will go up at 
least five more — ah, there’s the bell, the curtain is going up.” 

Mr. Cateret entered the box, was presented to the Com- 
modore, who took Madeleine’s soft, white hand in his a 
moment, and bowed himself out. Madeleine’s mind was 
at rest, and she turned to the stage to enjoy for the first 
time the singing. 

The rest of the evening she was radiant. Her father 
brought a message from Grace that she would call the next 
afternoon, and Madeleine, a little conscience-stricken at 
the way she had tricked him, was all amiability. 

The next morning Mr. Dawes had hardly reached his 
office when Madeleine’s card was brought in. 

“ So, that foolish girl has come to her senses over night. 
Mr. Fisher, do not go ‘ on Change ’ until I return, I shan’t 
be gone long.” 

When Mr. Dawes approached the carriage, Madeleine 
met him with outstretched hand, and a brilliant smile. 

“ Changed your mind, eh. Miss Cateret ? Better sell, 
hadn’t we ? New York Central is 89 and strong.” 

“ Not a bit of it, Mr. Dawes,” replied Madeleine, in her 
sweetest tones, “ the market is going five cents higher, at 
least, and this I have, as I told you I would, direct from 
the Commodore himself, and that no later than ten o’clock 
last evening.” 

“ You don’t mean it, Miss Cateret, he told you that ? ” 

“Absolutely, in so many words.” 

“Then I have nothing more to say; tell me when the 
time comes to sell, and I will execute your orders, X am 
in your hands.” 


38 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ Thank you, Mr. Dawes, you will hear from me. Per- 
haps you had better try and buy a little to-day, for the 
Commodore’s benefit.” 

“Right again. Miss Cateret, I will follow your advice.” 
And as Madeleine drove off, Mr. Dawes stood hat in hand, 
forgetting where he was, and only gazed after the carriage, 
until Mr. Fisher remarked to the book-keeper, “look at the 
old man, he’s in a trance; deuced pretty woman that! ” 

Grace called in the afternoon as she promised. She was • 
dainty, piquant and charming; from her natty boots, to 
her perfectly gloved hand and broad straw hat, everything 
was in keeping. Her movements were as graceful, her 
little poses as naive and picturesque, as those of the most 
gifted daughter of Eve. The very swish and swing of her 
skirts were poetical; her ease, was the ease of unconscious- 
ness, and her freshness and sweetness, were the freshness 
and sweetness of a lovely infant direct from its morning 
bath. No wonder Madeleine hugged her in her arms, and 
kissed her neck, throat, and lips. Despite her own mad- 
dening, entrancing beauty, she realized that the “bloom 
was off the peach.” 

Her pursuit of wealth, had bred deceit, cunning, and 
secretiveness, where were formerly innocence, frankness 
and truth. Her contact with the world had rendered her 
hard, self-reliant, and cold. She worshipped at a golden 
shrine, and “ life was never the same again.” 

“ Come, dear, you must go with me this afternoon, and 
see some pictures,” said Grace vivaciously, “ I have so much 
to tell you,” and after they were in the carriage, Grace burst 
out with: 

“ I met an old friend of yours yesterday, guess who ? ” 

“ I can’t, Gracie dear, who was it ? ” 

“ It was Mr. Hugo Bernhard, who came over with you 
on the steamer. I met his sister, also, a lovely girl, she is* 
very tall, taller than you are, Madeleine. I like them both 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


39 


very much. Isn’t he handsome ? I don’t think I know a 
man in New York who can compare with him; and so de- 
lightfully foreign and well bred ! ” 

“ I don’t know exactly what you mean, Gracie, is he for- 
eign and therefore well bred, or well bred if he be foreign ? ” 
"Now, Madeleine, you know just what I mean, he is not 
a foreigner at all, he was born in New England, but he 
has charming foreign ways, and speaks French as well as 
you do.” 

"And why not, pray ? He was years in Paris.” 

" Well, never mind his education, I’ll tell you how it all 
came about. I dropped in at Schaus’ to see what he had, 
and was much taken with the head of an old monk, and 
asked who painted it. Mr. Schaus told me the artist was 
an American, a former pupil of Ary Scheffer; we talked 
about the picture awhile, and finally I bought it. Sud- 
denly Mr. Schaus said, * here is the artist, just coming in 
with a young lady, shall I introduce you ? ’ 

" I consented, and we had quite a chat, he introduced me 
to the young lady, his sister, and a fine musician ; she in- 
tends teaching, and he will open a studio here. One thing 
led to another, until he mentioned his return home in the 
Persia ; I recollected the name of the steamer, and asked 
him if he met you, then it all came out; he admires you 
very much, Madeleine, and after he learned we were friends, 
he would talk of nothing else. I made an appointment 
with him this afternoon, as he wishes to do a little work on 
the head before I take it.” 

All this rather disturbed Madeleine, for her coming with 
Grace seemed premeditated, but it was too late to with- 
draw. When they arrived at Schaus’ Mr. Bernhard was 
not there, and Madeleine had ample time to inspect the 
study which Grace had bought; she had never yet seen 
any of Hugo’s work, and this interested her. It was an 
ideal head, with the light falling upon the face from above; 


140 NOT TO THE SWIFT. 

it showed strength and great promise. The warm, tender 
glow of the falling sunlight was pouring in from a window 
in some old cloister, and fell full upon a face, ecstatic in 
its conception; the brightness and warmth of the tints 
reminded Madeleine of Titian’s rich coloring. Involun- 
tarily a sigh escaped her as her Paris life came to her mind, 
so filled with innocent and childish joys, so free from care, 
so pure and happy. A tear might have dimmed the bright- 
ness of her lovely eyes when a second time a reverie of hers 
was interrupted by the same person; a newspaper was 
quietly held between her eyes and the picture, and turning 
quickly around she saw Hugo himself. 

“ A thousand pardons, Miss Cateret, but this is not ex- 
actly the portion of my work I wished you to see.” 

“ And why not, Mr. Bernhard ?” replied Madeleine, put- 
ting her outstretched hand a moment in his. 

“For the best of reasons; I think I have other things 
would please you better.” 

“ I am very much pleased at this as it is, and I feel that 
more than ever I am right in advising you not to give up 
your work, but to push on, work hard and improve.” 
Madeleine said this with an earnest manner which made 
her face light up wonderfully, and Hugo saw more enthu - 
siasm than he expected from her, and again his heart was 
ready to confess its weakness. 

“ Will you always say such encouraging things. Miss 
Cateret ? ” 

“ I am quite sure I shall when they are deserved, Mr. 
Bernhard. But tell me have you given up entirely the 
workshop to cultivate art ? ” 

“ Yes, entirely, I tried it a month or so at home, but my 
book-keeping was so atrocious that my father allowed me 
to pursue the course most suitable to my taste.” 

While Madeleine and Hugo had been conversing, his 
sister and Grace had strolled around, looking at pictures 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


H i 

and chatting about art in general, using that as a topic, 
while they gradually drew nearer to each other in sym- 
pathy, and ’when Hugo and Madeleine joined them both 
girls seemed friendly and disposed to like each other. 

Madeleine was presented to Miss Bernhard, and as the 
three girls stood together they made an exceedingly pretty 
picture. Madeleine’s calm, well-bred ease of manner made 
her seem older than Doris, although they were of the same 
age, and her style of beauty was so striking that she seemed 
to out-class the other two, if such a phrase may be allowed. 
They were all beautiful girls, and attractive in dilferent 
ways. A young man would have looked at Madeleine and 
called her “ a stunning beauty.” A young lady would in 
a trice have fixed her gaze on Grace; the perfection of her 
dressing was so exquisite that the sense of harmony would 
have been satisfied, and she would have said, “ how lovely 
she is ! ” The fathers and mothers of the world, however, 
would have been at once drawn to Doris, whose grand 
figure, frank womanly countenance, and modest demeanor, 
would have caused them to say, “What a noble-looking 
girl.” Doris was an elegant specimen of a New England 
maiden. Magnificent in form and perfectly proportioned, 
her chief charm was a mouthful of great white teeth; not 
pearly as often seen in delicate constitutions, but yellow 
white- like ivory, and her frequent rippling laughter gave 
them a fair chance of being constantly observed. Hugo 
watched with a careful eye to learn, if possible, how Made- 
leine and Doris would get on together, but men’s eyes are 
dull, compared to women’s in this respect. 

He saw nothing but the friendliest feelings exhibited, 
and was delighted, and yet Doris felt repulsed from Made- 
leine, and the latter never thought of Doris after she left 
her. Between Grace and Doris a lively affection sprang 
up, they were drawn like magnets to each other. All this 
Hugo learned later. 


142 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XV. 

A GENTLEMAN IN BLACK. 

The Mecca of all the pilgrims who cross the broad At- 
lantic is New York City. Among the passengers who 
landed on a Saturday in the fall of 1860, was a quiet, re- 
fined, scholarly appearing gentleman, whose precise and 
accurate use of the English language marked him to be a 
foreigner. 

“ To the Astor House, ” was his response to the query of 
the hackman who had appropriated his valise. 

“ I wish a large, quiet room, not too high up,” was his 
remark to the clerk. He signed his name, M. Pierre Lau- 
jac, Brussels, Belgium. 

Ordinarily, be it said, New York hotel clerks are not a 
deferential class. A moment to scan the signature, an- 
other to glance over the new arrival, a grab at a key, and 
an uplifted finger to the bell boy, is at most all the atten- 
tion the guest receives. 

For some unexplained reason — it may have been the 
quiet, simple, assured manner of the traveller, his style of 
dress, suggesting the priesthood, or the fact that travel was 
light — the clerk deigned to inquire a little more precisely 
than usual into Mr. Pierre Laujac’s wishes, and received 
the answer given above. Men of all sorts march up to that 
book of record and inscribe their names. Some are treated 
civilly, some with scant courtesy, and others with severity. 
One and all approach the arbiter of their fate for the next 
few days, or hours, with timidity. The man who can face 
the modern hotel clerk, without the feeling that he is now 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


143 


in tlie presence of a superior being, and dependent upon 
him has my sincere and unfeigned respect. The man who 
has just signed the register, is noticeable. His face is 
smoothly shaven, and rather round in outline, his nose 
small and well shaped, his mouth ditto, the lips never part- 
ing unless he is speaking. The peculiar thing which one 
notices, is the waxen look of his face; it is like the face of 
one who has suffered a long imprisonment, and yet the 
pallor is not an unhealthy one. 

He was dressed entirely in black. A neatly fitting frock 
coat and trousers, with a high vest of serge, only relieved 
by a narrow linen collar — the only thing that softened the 
sombreness of his attire — might have led one to think him 
in mourning, or else a member of the priesthood. When 
he entered his rooTh and removed his hat — a soft black 
one — it was seen that he was slightly bald; but nature, 
not the church, had tonsured him. What hair he had left, 
was light brown, with a thread or two of gray. In age he 
might be forty-five, possibly younger, certainly not older. 
That impassive face bore no lines to indicate that his life 
journey, so far, had been afflicted with cares. 

The texture of his skin was such that these lines were 
not easily made. What palmistry might have told us of 
his character, it was not possible to determine, since his 
palm was never exposed. 

Among all savage tribes, the open palm is held to indi- 
cate peace and amity. This gentleman was never brought 
up among the untutored savages. You saw the back of 
the hand, and felt the palm; soft, plump and easily com- 
pressed, but it was never turned uppermost for inspection. 

Was this man an Ishmaelite, at war with the world ? 

Certainly not openly, not boldly. As much as could be 
seen of his hand indicated secretiveness, luxuriousness, 
and cunning. A physiognomist would have said, "his 
eyes are too near together, his mouth is too small; he is 


144 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


cruel and silent.” A casual observer and listener, would 
have been charmed with his polished bearing, his deference 
to your opinion, and his sweetly modulated voice. 

After a refreshing bath, M. Laujac odrered a choice bot- 
tle of Bordeaux. As he sipped and frequently held his 
glass between his eye and the light, in admiration of its 
brilliant, ruby tint, he took in through its crimson shade, 
a view of the old churchyard opposite. 

“ Strange,” he thought, “ that amid all this noise and 
bustle, this little cemetery should yet remain with its quiet 
inhabitants, to mark the restless turmoil which now sur- 
rounds it. A little puff more of nitrogen in this atmos- 
phere of ours, and we should all rest as quiet as these long- 
forgotten folk.” 

A smile overspread his face at the philosophical vein in 
which he found himself. Presently he pulled out a mem- 
orandum book, and looked over a few addresses. 

He read, “ Dr. Maginn, New York Hotel, recommended 
by the General; Father Riordan, St. Mary’s, recommended 
by the General; Miss Cateret, Washington Square, recom- 
mended by Father Dorlon.” 

“ So, I shall find some friends here,” he remarked, put- 
ting up his book. 

After a few moments’ reflection he rang his bell, and 
called for pen and ink and paper. For the next half-hour, 
he devoted himself to the task of writing in a minute ci- 
pher a lengthy letter which he directed to General Peter 
Johannes Beckx, S. J., Rome, Italy. 

This done he finished his bottle of wine, put on his hat, 
and sallied forth to see a little of New York. 

Jean Pierre Laujac was a Belgian by birth, and although 
he might be called a man of the world, for he had lived in 
all parts of it, he always considered Brussels his home. 

Here he was born, and here he was educated in the 
Jesuit College. Young Laujac was of good family on both 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


145 


sides, but especially his mother’s. His father was a retired 
carpet manufacturer, a member of the chamber of repre- 
sentatives, and highly respected, llis mother was of a 
noble Louvain family, impoverished by the failure of the 
Bank of Brussels; and they were only too glad when the 
wealthy Jean Laujac sought her in marriage. < 

Young Pierre was early destined for the church, being 
the second son; the elder, who was to inherit the property, 
was engaged in his father’s former business. 

Both families being Catholic, Pierre’s training was com- 
menced at an early age; and developing precocious talents, 
he was carefully instructed in all the modern languages; 
in art, science and literature, and lastly in theology. 

I say lastly, because while his theological training was 
not neglected, he was never designed by his instructors to 
uphold the faith in polemical discussion. 

One particular feature of Jesuit instruction has always 
been, selection of proper material in the young to be trained 
for special purposes in the Order. 

The Company of Jesus has always been an aggressive 
organization. Since it was first founded it has partaken 
of a military character. 

Harrow as was the mental vision of Loyola in many re- 
spects, he was truly great in his conception of a church 
militant. While other monastic orders retired from the 
public gaze and sought seclusion, the Jesuits have ever 
striven to win souls in the great arena of the world. To 
mingle with the world, to be a part of it, to influence relig- 
ious, political, and educational movements, has been as 
much a part of their policy, as the training of their disci- 
ples in the Christian idea. They are literally “ soldiers of 
Christ,” and fight equally well with tongue, pen, and sword. 
The government of the order is an absolute monarchy, its 
control over men’s minds is supreme. Secretly and noise- 
lessly it governs half the world. One of the Generals of 
10 


146 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


the Order has said, “ You see, sir, I govern not only Paris, 
but China, not only China, but the world, and no one 
knows how I do it.” 

Since the organization of this remarkable order by Loyola 
in 1541 to the present day, no social or political revolution 
has occurred in the civilized world, in which finger marks 
of the Jesuits are not found. Secretly, silently, and un- 
obtrusively they influence court, salon, and camp. 

Never leaders, but ever instigators, they direct, suggest, 
and devise plans, which, simple and inconsequential as 
they may appear, always redound to the honor and welfare 
of Mother Church. 

What the Catholic Church is to-day, with its millions of 
communicants, its immense riches, its enormous influence 
in America, it owes to these Jesuits. One-sixth of the 
population of America to-day are Catholics, or under Cath- 
olic control. In municipal affairs, in educational matters, 
in national politics they are ever prominent. Always alert 
and vigilant; nothing escapes their cunning scrutiny, and 
their audacity is only matched by their crafty duplicity. 

What wonder our statesmen are as dough in the hands 
of these trained diplomats! No means are too insignifi- 
cant, no perils are too imminent to dissuade these daring 
church soldiers from the pursuit of the power they crave. 

One of their instruments was this recently landed for- 
eigner. What was he here for? The low state of the 
political barometer in America in 1860, indicated a storm 
of tremendous magnitude, and here appears one of those 
vultures of society, who like Mother Cary’s chickens might 
well foretell a tempest. 

Fancy not that one priest, more or less, could serve to 
sway the destinies of a mighty nation. There were then, 
as now, thousands of Jesuit priests in America. Honor- 
able, zealous, pious men many of them were, and are, as 
priests, but the Order of Jesus contemplates something 


NOT TO THE SWIFT 


147 


wider, grander far, than the simple exercise of priestly 
function. 

The ordinary J esuit priest is a guileless shepherd of his 
flock, and while he is like wax in the hands of his superiors 
if occasion demands, he is generally a patient, gentle, un- 
demonstrative follower of Christian precepts. The pro- 
fessed Jesuit of the fourth order is a different being. A 
scholar, a diplomat, a wily courtier, and a successful in- 
triguer, his mission is not a religious one. 

Such a man was Rev. Pierre Laujac. He came not to 
practise his professed noble calling. Secret as the grave, 
silent and mysterious as the shades of night, this mighty 
power which emanates from Rome, and radiates like a 
many-bladed sword, with the hilt very near the Vatican, 
had sniffed in the air of our Republic that which necessi- 
tated the dispatching a trusty agent; who on the ground, 
could act, or withhold his hand, as occasion demanded. 

For years the watchful eye of the General of the Jesuits 
had been on America, with one object, the dissolution of 
the Government, and the establishment of a Catholic 
Hierarchy, which should acknowledge the supremacy of 
the Pope. 

The Company of Jesus works not for to-day. In that 
wonderful organization where the most highly trained and 
gifted mind ranks “ but as a cadaver ” in its unquestioning 
obedience to its superior, the thought is ever of the future. 
Nature herself, in her implacable, unchanging law, is not 
more relentless, than the guiding hand which points the 
way to the “ slaves of the lamp.” Whether it be in war, 
famine, pestilence or martyrdom, there must be no shrink- 
ing, no withdrawal, no hesitation. General Grant never 
sacrificed his men more readily to gain his end than the 
General of the Jesuits did his mysterious cohorts, for the 
furtherance of churchly aggrandizement. Such was, and 
is, the system, which seeking for an ever-increasing power 


143 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


and dominion, first grasped the. problems, then unsettling 
the foundations of our Nation, sought to use them as a 
lever to overthrow the toppling structure; that out of the 
chaos might be erected a Catholic Hierarchy in the United 
States. 

To be sure slavery was the ostensible cause of the differ- 
ences arising between North and South, but back of it all 
was the “ man in black.” The strings lie pulled, and the 
puppets he made to dance, came near wrecking a great 
Nation. 

But keen as were the intellects abroad, subtle as were 
the forces used, there was a power greater than even that 
of the Jesuits; our geographical position, and the rational- 
ism of the 19th century. 

But to return to our Jesuitical friend. Father Laujac 
picked up his hat, and after a glance around, to see if he 
had left anything which might indicate his occupation, he 
strolled up Broadway, looked in at the shop windows, 
viewed the passers-by, and finally finding himself, by a 
reference to his guide book, in the vicinity of the Astor 
Library, called there, and introducing himself to Dr. Cogs- 
well as a traveller interested in literature, they soon be- 
came absorbed in the discussion of literary matters. 

The learned doctor soon ascertained that his visitor was 
a bibliophile of the first water, and had even published a 
supplement to LambinePs “Becherches historique sur 
TOrigine de lTmprimerie,” was a pupil of PeigneFs, and 
latterly of Dibden, and was now making studies, as he said, 
for a work on Universal Bibliography. 

An hour or two was very pleasantly spent in discussion; 
and not until the range of bibliographical knowledge was 
touched upon, was he permitted to take his leave. 

“My dear Father Laujac, you must certainly call and 
see me again ” — Father Laujac had sent in his card to Dr. 
Cogswell— before you leave America,” This promise 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


149 


was easily made but never kept, even that one visit was 
one too many, as Father Laujac learned before he left the 
country. The afternoon was well spent before he returned 
to his room; and when he did he learned something which 
would have been beneficial to him had he known it before 
starting out. The most cunning supervision over one’s 
movements is often matched by chance happenings, and 
fate often overthrows the best-laid plans. 

That little conversation in the library compelled Father 
Laujac, later in his career, to wish he had delayed his 
stroll. He found in his room a letter, and a card bearing 
the name of Dr. Maginn. The letter had not been sent 
up; he should have received it before he took his walk. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


150 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A CHAPTER ON FINANCE. 

Since her contest for supremacy with Mr. Dawes, Made- 
leine had had frequent meetings with her associate. New 
York Central had been steady, but not strong, and had 
fallen from 89 to 85. Toward the beginning of October 
it suddenly started up, closed at 90 and opened at 92 in the 
morning on the " curb.” 

Hardly had Mr. Dawes gained information as to the 
street market, when he received Madeleine’s card. When 
he joined her at the carriage, her usually calm face was 
eager and impassioned, and her actions equally demon- 
strative; she grasped his hand. 

“ It has come, Mr. Dawes,” she said excitedly, “ now get 
your brokers together, and sell just as quickly as you 
can. My father has sold all he holds at 90, so there is 
nothing in your way, and the people seem to want it,” and 
Madeleine laughed nervously. 

The people did want it, and tumbled over each other to 
get it; at one time, the market rose to 95 but closed at 90 
and when night came, neither Mr. Dawes nor Mr. Charles 
Kenner had a share of stock. 

The next afternoon Madeleine received a statement of 
her account from Mr. Dawes, or to be more precise, a state- 
ment of Mr. Charles Kenner’s account with James T. 
Dawes, and with it a personal note the reading of which 
flushed her cheeks with gratified pride. 

“ I knew I could do it ! Why should the women of our 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


151 

day hesitate to match themselves with men ! Here I am, 
a young girl, and I have not only turned a little gossip of 
the drawing-room in such a way as to make a fortune, but 
I have forced one of the strongest men in Hew York City 
to defer to my will ! ” 

All this and more, Madeleine half thought and half 
spoke, as she paced up and down her room. The young 
woman had gained fame also in another way, outside of the 
complimentary remarks contained in Mr. Dawes’ letter. 

The name of Charles Kenner was on every tongue on 
“ Change.” Mr. Dawes had spread the report that there 
was “ new blood ” in the market. A young operator had 
made half a million with him, on the phenomenal rise in 
New York Central. 

“ Who’s Kenner?” asked one man of another. Nobody 
seemed to know Kenner, but it was learned that he had 
made a large sum through “ Windy Cateret.” 

“ Who’s this fellow Kenner?” asked the Commodore 
pompously of Mr. Cateret, whom he met just after the 
close of “Change.” “I understand he made a raft of 
money with you out of New York Central.” 

“A hundred thousand,” whispered Mr. Cateret impres- 
sively, glad to be seen talking with the Commodore — “ and 
five times as much with Dawes.” 

“ Whew,” gasped the big operator, “ he is a good one, 
introduce me to him.” 

“ Sorry I can’t do it, Commodore, but he’s not in town, 
left last night, told me to make up his account, and send 
a check to the Bank of America, he banks there.” 

“Hum!” mused the Commodore rubbing his chin, and 
looking sidewise at Mr. Cateret, a light seemed to be dawn- 
ing upon him. 

“ Dawes, Cateret,” he murmured, “ can’t be that sly little 
puss has pulled the wool over all our eyes ? By the way, 
Cateret,” the Commodore from his position assumed the 


152 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


right to address people as he chose — “what’s become of 
that charming daughter of yours ? ” 

“ Madeleine ? Oh, she’s at home, and would be glad to 
see you. Commodore, at any time you may be pleased to 
call.” 

“ Tell her I’ll call soon — and — stop a moment, tell her I 
don’t think she expects that ring.” Mr. Cateret looked 
surprised. 

“ Never mind, tell her what I say,” answered the Com- 
modore in reply to Mr. Cateret’s inquiring look. - 

About this time Mr. Tatum received a visit from Miss 
Cateret. As Madeleine had declared since the evening on 
which he had promised to renew the mortgage, he had 
never stepped inside the house; although he had called she 
had always denied herself to him. She had never seen 
him since the day on which she had borrowed the twenty- 
two hundred dollars on her jewels with which she began 
her wonderfully successful speculation. 

When the old man saw her, his yellow, parchment-like 
visage wrinkled still more, he seemed to be suffering with 
a cold, for his beady eyes were watery, and partially in- 
verted, showing the red membrane. Altogether he was 
not a pleasant object for the eye to rest upon. He must 
have fancied that the hour of his triumph was at hand, 
and his stiffened hands twisted themselves together with a 
cramp-like action which drew the blood and made them 
look like the fleshless digits one sees among the mummi- 
fied Pharaohs in the British Museum. 

A horrible leer was observable on his countenance, which 
meant, “ I have you now, my beauty, you have come to beg 
for money, but I’m determined to lower your pride; you’ll 
crawl to me by-and-by, and fawn upon me.” And as these 
thoughts passed through his evil mind, he laughed aloud, 
but his laugh was a croak, and would have sent a chill to 
the heart of Madeleine, had she been the victim he fancied. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


153 

"Good-morning, Miss Cateret, what a wonderfully line 
color we have this morning, there’s nothing like young 
blood to give color, mine’s old now, but I’ve got a little 
left, a little.” 

"Never mind my color, Mr. Tatum,” said Madeleine 
haughtily, “ I called to ask you how much I owe you ! ” 

" Highty-tighty, highty-tighty, Miss Cateret, don’t be so 
perky, you may need some favor of the old man yet,” he 
squeaked. 

"Come, Mr. Tatum,” said Madeleine in a pleasanter 
tone, for she had a plan she intended to carry out, and did 
not care to anger the old gentleman. " I wish my jewels, 
will you please figure up what I owe you, and I will give 
you a check.” 

"A check ! ” cried the old man in amazement. 

" Certainly, Mr. Tatum, I said a check.” 

" Take a seat. Miss Cateret,” was all he could articulate. 
Mr. Wheelock, who had observed the whole scene and heard 
the conversation, smiled with secret enjoyment. Mr. Tatum 
figured a few moments after consulting his book and then 
showed the paper to Madeleine. " It’s a little over three 
months, the whole amount is twenty-five hundred and fifty 
dollars.” 

Madeleine took out a check, filled in the amount, and 
handed it to Mr. Tatum, who extended a trembling hand 
to receive it. Adjusting his glasses he read carefully, until 
he came to the signature. " Kenner, Kenner,” he said, 
" what Kenner is this ? ” and then a sly look overspread 
his countenance. 

"Aha ! Miss Cateret, you’re a good one,” and he made a 
little motion as though he would give her arm a little 
pinch, but the attempt died away in its inception, for he 
caught a look which warned him; for Madeleine raised her 
queenly head, and flashed one glance of contempt upon 
this miserable cur which made him shiver. 


154 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Brute and coward as lie was, lie saw that back of the 
look, there was a character he did not realize. He ac- 
cepted the check humbly and Madeleine smothered the 
feeling of repulsion she felt, for she meant to punish him 
for his repeated insults, and she had not forgotten his 
treatment of her father and poor Wheelock. 

“ I suppose this is Mr. Charles Kenner, the great operator 
on * Change/ I did not know you knew him. Seems to be 
a most successful speculator; should like to know him 
myself; you must introduce me some time,” he said, bring- 
ing out the box containing the jewelry and placing it before 
Madeleine. 

“ Is he such a great speculator ? ” inquired Madeleine in- 
nocently. 

“ Great! why, his operations are the gossip of Wall Street. 
Now don’t be offended, Miss Cateret,” he said obsequiously, 
“but you must be on very good terms with him to have 
his blank check, don’t you think now, my dear, you could 
get a little information for an old man who has done you 
a favor ? ” 

Madeleine looked at him intently, wondering if he could 
be fool enough to go on. “ I might, perhaps, if I asked 
for it,” she said indifferently. “I heard him talking with 
Commodore Yanderfelt a while ago, I’ll ask him if it was 
about the market.” 

“Do, Miss Madeleine, do, and tell me what he says,” in- 
terrupted Mr. Tatum. 

“ It will be greatly to your advantage, will it not, Mr. 
Tatum, if you learn what the Commodore or Mr. Kenner 
intend doing ? ” 

“ Greatly, greatly,” replied Tatum unsuspiciously. 

“Will it be to mine, Mr. Tatum, if I repeat to you what 
they say ? ” 

“ Why — why, of course — that is, if I make anything out 
of it,” replied the cunning old man, hedging. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


155 


“That will not do, Mr. Tatum; if I bring you the in- 
formation that must suffice, you can act on it or not as 
you see fit.” 

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Cateret, for a young 
lady.” 

“Fve learned in a hard school, Mr. Tatum, you squeezed 
five per cent, a month out of me when I needed money, 
and your security was perfect; can you expect information 
by which you expect to benefit, for nothing ? ” 

“ Well, well, we won't quarrel,” exclaimed the avaricious 
old man, “ you bring me authentic information from either, 
and I will give you one hundred dollars — there!” 

Madeleine smiled; the hundred dollars she would give 
to Mr. Wheelock, but she knew if Mr. Tatum paid for the 
information, he would value it. 

Before leaving the office, she said: “By the way, Mr. 
Tatum, just figure up the amount due on that mortgage, 
and I will take it up at any time, send me the amount by 
mail.” 

Again Mr. Tatum opened his eyes, and again he was 
staggered, what did it all mean ? He bent his old form 
humbly when she left the room. 

“ What can it mean ? ” he said aloud, forgetful of Wheel- 

ock's presence, “ d n the spiteful tiger cat, how sharp she 

is, not much like her father. Wyants to take up the mort- 
gage, too; no question about it, she must be Kenner's mis- 
tress, no man would let his checks be handled by a woman 
in that way, unless he owned her. If it hadn't been for 
him I'd had the whole outfit, house, jewels, girl and all — 
confound him.” Then turning around he said in a gruff 
tone : “ Here, Wheelock, take this check to the Bank of 
America and have it cashed, and be quick about it, I want 
to see if it is good. Don't be gone an hour, now: if you 
are, I’ll dock half a day's wages.” 

When Madeleine left Mr. Tatum, she despised herself 


156 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


heartily for considering the proposition to give him the 
information he wished, even for one moment. To what 
had it exposed her ? The suspicion of being the mistress 
of a man, although that man was a myth. It had laid her 
open to the charge of being mercenary, and an intriguer 
to gain money. It had hurt her pride, besmirched her 
honor, and involved her in an undertaking which would 
compel her to destroy a man’s confidence. 

This was the spontaneous outburst of a naturally pure 
mind, which as yet was unsullied, although tinged with 
the vices which tend to harden it. 

The taint upon her moral nature was almost impercepti- 
ble, for the red blood surged her face for a moment, and 
she might have thrown it all over, reconsidered her deter- 
mination, and suffered her spiritual conscience to establish 
its supremacy. 

But it was not to be. There had been a fault in her 
mental training. She had been taught that although cer- 
tain acts are morally wrong, yet when they conduced to 
the welfare of the true believer, the sufferer being a here- 
tic, they are allowable, having made due confession. "And 
where there is no knowledge of crime, there is no sin/’ 
Such teaching offers to the worldly and ambitious, power 
and success. If the pupil be devout, it extends forms, 
ceremonies, and miracles; to the one, money and place; to 
the other, superstition and reverie. 

Madeleine’s nature was of the first order, and as she re- 
flected upon her position and her moral obligations, she 
found her creed continually lengthening, and the decalogue 
conveniently shortening. 

Madeleine felt immeasurably older and wiser, but her 
freshness and innocence were fast vanishing. Somehow 
she thought at this moment of Hugo, and wondered how 
he would feel if he knew her mental condition. And then, 
so proud and perverse was that nature of hers, she abso- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


157 


lutely resented the intrusion into her own mind of such 
thoughts, and was fairly maddened to think that Hugo 
himself, or what he would say, could have a place in her 
worldly schemes. 

Why should he sit in judgment ? No, she would not he 
balked; people should admire her, and fear her, though 
she waded through loads of filth to accomplish her object. 
Wealth, immense wealth was hers, and now she would use 
it to create power. She had observed the obsequiousness 
of men when brought face to face with authority and 
power, represented in such men as the Commodore, and 
Mr. Dawes. She had outwitted the one, and outgeneralled 
the other, hut that was nothing to what she would do and 
could do. She would rise to greater heights than this, and 
all the wit, all the cunning, and all the energies of her 
mind and body, should he utilized for the purpose. 


i 5 8 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A SOUTHERN SALON. 

The first thing Father Laujac attended to after his ar- 
rival in New York was his wardrobe. Seeking the shop 
of one of the leading tailors on Broadway, he ordered a 
complete outfit of clothing; and as the price was. not ques- 
tioned, the only requirement being its early delivery, he 
found himself the possessor of an equipment which would 
enable him to appear on the street or in the drawing-room 
attired in the height of fashion. 

The change was remarkable; for with his divorce from 
his priesthood habiliments, came a surrender of his eccle- 
siastic manner; when he assumed his worldly garb, he took 
on an appropriate and conventional style. 

The advanced professed Jesuits were men of affairs, 
they possessed an accommodating, sliding scale of ethics 
and morals, they were complacent and tolerant; the profli- 
gate might pour into their ears the tale of love and passion, 
without fear of priestly denunciation. Health, piety, in- 
tellect, were demanded of them, as was an attractive social 
appearance. 

Dominion over the world of nature, and the renuncia- 
tion of all family ties, all personal friendships, all individ- 
ual aspirations, where the characteristics of the Jesuit of 
the fourth order. His inmost thought did not belong to 
himself, but to the General of the order, he sank his per- 
sonal identity in the will of his superiors, he crept into 
the schools, into homes, into private life. He wore no 
distinguishing badge of Jesuitism, he was a hidden pres- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


159 


ence, with no bodily shape, no visible form ; gliding around 
in the dark he was the more mysterious and formidable. 
He represented religion with its heart cut out. To accom- 
plish all this, he was versatile, learned and subtle. 

Father Laujac, now become M. Laujac by virtue of his 
rehabilitation, was one of these advanced Jesuits. In his 
new attire, he might have been a prominent actor, or a 
stock broker, a retired army man, or a diplomat or some 
successful speculator on the Bourse in Paris. 

“ Say, Brown,” remarked the cashier of the hotel to the 
clerk, “ twig the minister, he's changed his togs.” 

“ That man's no minister, he's an actor,” answered the 
other, “ he's one of those French actors who've been com- 
ing over here lately.” 

This conversation occurred the morning M. Laujac ap- 
peared as a layman. 

Monsieur Laujac's change in his attire was occasioned 
by a letter he received the evening after he arrived. The 
moment Father Laujac opened it he started, and gave vent 
to an ejaculation of disappointment. The letter was in 
cipher, and he could not read it without reference to his 
key, but what he saw was the impression of a seal. He 
looked at the postmark, and saw it had been mailed in 
Washington. That was enough to show him that a su- 
perior to himself was in America. The letter deciphered, 
directed him to doff his priestly garb, and assume the cos- 
tume of a man of the world. 

“ You will proceed with the matter in hand, A. M. L>. G. 
as suggested in your letter of instruction. First see people 
mentioned. Send all information direct to Secretary.” 

The seal which had startled Father Laujac, was a hand 
holding a five-bladed sword. Very few of the order had 
the privilege of writing Father Laujac, and signing with a 
seal. This made the command imperative; and then his 
change of costume came. 


i6o 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


From prudential reasons he did not return Dr. Maginn's 
call, until he could do so in the garb of an ordinary gen- 
tleman, but one morning he sent up his card to the doctor, 
and was ushered into his room. 

His card read M. Pierre Laujac. Dr. Maginn received 
him cordially, grasped his hand in both his large palms, 
and drew him instantly to a seat. 

“ So glad to see you, Monsieur Laujac,” he said, in a rich 
mellow voice, with the delicious broad accent of a cultivated 
Irishman. “ How do you feel now you have your sea legs 
off?” 

“ Quite comfortable, doctor, thank you,” replied Mon- 
sieur Laujac in a quiet manner. “ I shall become quite an 
American soon.” 

“ Ha, ha, I'm sure you will,” replied the doctor, “Amer- 
ica is a wonderful country, not so green as old Erin, but 
such lovely homes here.” 

And Dr. Maginn began a dissertation upon American 
private life, which showed keen appreciation, an imagina- 
tive mind, and wonderful analysis of social distinctions. 
Monsieur Laujac had time to study him. 

He found a face and personality most interesting. He 
saw in Dr. Maginn a man of perhaps fifty-five years, with 
one of those faces upon which a beard has never grown, it 
was a large, but not a fleshy one, his hair brown with an 
occasional thread of gray, which was worn rather long, 
and brushed behind the ears; his forehead was broad and 
prominent where lies the region of ideality, but there were 
two features in his face which were remarkable. He had 
an aquiline nose, rather thin but very prominent; if he 
had had a different mouth, he would have looked selfish 
and conscienceless, but his mouth was a perfect bow, which, 
when he was animated or aroused, elongated and opened 
frequently to emit a hearty laugh; but when his face was 
in repose the outer corners were inclined to droop, and 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


161 

then the whole countenance took on a look of extreme 
sadness and despondency. Upon occasion, the face could 
become very severe, and almost scornful, hut a high sense 
of humor, almost boyish in its exuberance, relieved a na- 
ture inclined to become depressed. 

Monsieur Laujac was fascinated by this Dantesque head, 
which, takexi in profile and draped, would have resembled 
a medallion. 

“ You are not an American ? ” he inquired of the doctor. 

“ No, I was born on the green sod of old Ireland, al- 
though I have been forty years in America, with the ex- 
ception of occasional pilgrimages to Europe. America 
adopted me out of the orphan asylum,” laughed the doctor 
with explosive violence. 

“Speaking of Europe, doctor,” said Monsieur Laujac, 
“ I have a letter for you from friends of yours which I 
promised to deliver and I have one also to Miss Cateret, in 
Washington Square; do you know her?” 

“Oh, yes,” smiled the doctor, “very well, indeed, well 
enough to take you there without a letter of introduction ; 
and let me tell you, to-night will be a good time to go, for 
you will meet some interesting people there.” 

“ But I have not called yet.” 

“ Oh, that does not matter, we are all Southern sympa- 
thizers together. Monsieur Laujac, and Miss Cateret is the 
light around which we all swarm. With your permission 
I will read my letter,” and as he proceeded to do so, M. 
Laujac noticed that fixed, sad expression steal over his 
face. When he had finished he burned it without apology. 
And then his face brightening a little, he remarked : 

“ Times are rather gloomy here just now, Monsieur Lau- 
jac, no one knows what the next move will be or what the 
outcome of all this recrimination; probably war.” 

“ Sad, indeed, doctor, but if it must come our friends 
may benefit by it. I am here, you know, to observe the 
n 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


162 

course of events, but this had better not be mentioned. I 
come as a representative of an arms manufactory in Paris, 
that will do as well as any other occupation, I fancy.” 

" Excellent idea that, Monsieur Laujac, you have a mili- 
tary look, I noticed, as you came in,” remarked the doctor 
slyly. 

“Hum! I don't think on that account I shall don a 
military garb, commerce is more in my line,” said the 
Jesuit reflectively. 

"Well, at any rate, you had better go with me to-night, 
and to-morrow I will act as your Palinurus around town,” 
said the doctor good-naturedly. After Monsieur Laujac 
had taken his departure, Dr. Maginn remained a long time 
in thought. 

"An adroit man that, but too ambitious, or I am a bad 
rea.der of character. At any rate he will be useful, and 
perhaps valuable, I must see more of him, to-night will be 
a good opportunity.” 

About eight o'clock the doctor appeared at the Astor 
House in search of Monsieur Laujac. Hi 4 new friend soon 
presented himself in irreproachable evening attire, con- 
trasting strongly with the doctor’s long frock coat, and 
half clerical, half professional dress. 

A quick drive brought them to the Caterets, where they 
found already a goodly company assembled. 

During the past three months Madeleine had assiduously 
cultivated all Southern sympathizers, until her house had 
become a common meeting place, and a prominent South- 
erner arriving in New York soon found his way to Miss 
Cateret's. 

Her salon was consequently more a political, than a lit- 
erary one, and it had begun to wield a power which prom- 
ised to make her famous; for the quick-eyed leaders of the 
Southern cause already recognized the work she was doing, 
and to her surprise and gratification, she had recently re- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


163 


ceived several messages through trusty agents, from Messrs. 
Floyd, Toombs, Governor Pickens, and Governor Moore of 
Alabama, thanking he? for the work she was doing, and 
suggesting certain lines on which she might work success- 
fully in the future. 

The result of this communication was a correspondence 
actively kept up between the leaders at Washington, and 
the Cateret mansion in Washington Square, in New York. 
Madeleine became gradually the depository of secrets which, 
if known, would have seriously jeopardized the plans of 
the secessionists. She knew this and gloried in the trust 
imposed upon her. The gatherings at the Caterets grew, 
from the dropping in of few friends, to regular meetings, 
with a definite object. 

At length Madeleine designated Sunday evening as the 
time she could best see her friends, and meetings were held 
on these evenings alone. It was a trying and yet a flatter- 
ing position for a young girl to be placed in, but Madeleine 
was, in these few short months, a very different person 
from the young, inexperienced girl who arrived home from 
a five years* sojourn abroad, to find that she must assume 
the responsibility which her mother’s letter revealed to her 
as a necessity. It was indeed a revelation. The capacity 
was there, the disposition and will, all that was lacking 
was the incentive. 

It came, and the development was rapid ; all the latent 
strength and power of the young girl, was concentrated on 
one thing; she made it a success. Once having tested the 
strength of her wings, flight became a pleasure, she was 
determined to enjoy. 

She had now transferred her work to another field, and 
the energy she threw into it was characteristic of her tem- 
perament. 

While Madeleine’s salon had not as yet taken on the 
character it afterward possessed, many of her guests were 
men of note in the councils of the country. 


164 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


It was through Grace Richmond that Dr. Maginn had 
become acquainted with Madeleine, and seeing in her a 
young woman who promised much to the Southern cause 
through her activity, enthusiasm, and wealth — for in some 
mysterious manner Dr. Maginn had already learned of 
Madeleine’s speculations — he had assiduously cultivated her 
good graces. 

For some reason she trusted him. Dr. Maginn had a 
most insinuating way with women, they confided all their 
little secrets to him, and were amply repaid for this confi- 
dence, by his compassionate regard. 

Reticent as Madeleine was, she had in several ways be- 
trayed her ambitions, and Dr. Maginn had encouraged 
her. 

With the knowledge ever present in her mind of what 
so many French women had accomplished in this way in 
the past, it was not hard for Madeleine to believe that she 
might be the Recamier or Main tenon of American politics. 

Whatever fancies of the kind she indulged in, she kept 
to herself. She simply showed to Dr. Maginn that her 
ambition was to be a leader, and he, well pleased at finding 
one so clear-headed and competent, encouraged her in her 
hopes. 

Upon the evening Dr. Maginn called with Monsieur 
Laujac, the events which later so embittered the South 
against the North not having occurred, the conversation, 
although partaking somewhat of a political character, was 
rather general. 

The ceremony of presentation having been performed, 
the doctor left Monsieur Laujac to be entertained by 
Madeleine, while he stepped forward to speak to Grace 
Richmond. 

“I think I must consider myself singularly fortunate, 
Miss Cateret, in having found Dr. Maginn as sponsor for 
me in making your acquaintance, for it enables me to make 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 165 

a confession which otherwise I might have found it diffi- 
cult to enter upon.” 

“ How is that, Monsieur Laujac ? Pray what confession 
am I to listen to ? ” inquired Madeleine pleasantly. 

“A confession of carelessness, Miss Cateret. I was, or 
thought I was, the bearer of a letter to you from an old 
friend of yours and mine, Father Dorlon.” 

“ From Father Dorlon,” exclaimed Madeleine, “ do you 
know Father Dorlon ? ” 

“ He is a most intimate, and valued friend, Miss Cateret, 
and when I mentioned my plan of a trip to the United 
States, he gave me a letter of introduction to you, but 
through some carelessness” — Monsieur Laujac had de- 
stroyed the letter as it mentioned him as Father Laujac — 
“ I am unable to place my hands upon it. My good star 
has in a measure befriended me, however, for I bore a 
letter to Dr. Maginn, and mentioning my loss he was kind 
enough to relieve me of the consequences of my careless- 
ness by offering to bring me here himself.” 

Madeleine smiled at the deprecatory air of Monsieur 
Laujac, while making this explanation, and assured him 
that despite the loss of the letter he was heartily welcome. 
A lively conversation then sprang up between them con- 
cerning her beloved Paris, when, new guests arriving, 
Madeleine presented him to several of her friends, and 
turned to meet the later arrivals. 

Among them was no less a person than Judah P. Benja- 
min, afterward Attorney-General and Secretary of State 
of the Confederacy, and still later one of London’s leading 
barristers. At this time he was United States Senator 
from Louisiana. Beyond all comparison, Benjamin was 
the most accomplished orator in Congress. With a voice 
of silvery richness, brilliant and quick in imagination, 
ready to seize any momentary advantage, a sophist in the 
use of facts which he turned to suit his purpose, and pre- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


1 66 

eminently learned in the law, he had few equals and no 
superiors in the art of convincing doubting minds of his 
perfect sincerity and honesty. 

" It is a rare pleasure, Miss Oateret, I assure you, to he 
permitted, in this cold and inhospitable North, the privi- 
lege of entering a genuine Southern home,” said the 
Senator as he pressed Madeleine’s hand upon being pre- 
sented by Mayor Wood, who accompanied him. 

" Thank you for that pretty speech, Mr. Senator, I only 
regret, we cannot offer you more of the sunny South, but 
you remember the Persian proverb, ‘ you may bring a nose- 
gay to town, but you cannot bring the garden.’ You will 
find we are cultivating a few Southern flowers here; enough 
to remind us of our obligations.” 

"With such a gardener, Senator, do you not think the 
plants are sure to thrive ? ” came from behind Madeleine, 
who turned and saw Dr. Maginn, who seemed to be every- 
where to-night. 

" Good-evening, doctor,” replied the Senator, recogniz- 
ing him instantly. "You must have the shoes of Mercury, 
for I believe I saw you last in Richmond. Yes, I quite 
agree with you that the gardener is most skilful, the crop 
is a little early, but if it is out of season, rarities attract us.” 

Dr. Maginn slipped behind Senator Benjamin and whis- 
pered, " do not mention having seen me lately in Washing- 
ton,” and then aloud: "You see, my dear Senator, even 
though I have retired from the practice, my friends will 
persist in calling me in, but I am getting rusty, and almost 
old ; travel vexes me, and I prefer my ease.” 

" Now, doctor, I shall not permit you to disparage your- 
self in this manner,” replied Madeleine, "there is no 
younger man here to-night than you are, I believe you 
were looking for a compliment.” 

"It is only our enemies who tell us the truth. Miss 
Madeleine,” said the wise doctor, and off he went wagging 
his massive head. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


167 


The Senator and Mayor Wood being deep in conversa- 
tion, Madeleine dropped into a vacant chair, and instantly 
the observant Frenchman was at her &ide. He was a 
striking-looking man in any assemblage. Not handsome, 
perhaps, but interesting and intellectual. Madeleine was 
interested to know how far his sympathies ran with the 
South, and what his business was in America. 

“And you really have come over here to travel, and see 
the country. Monsieur Laujac ? ” 

“Pas si bete , mademoiselle, I should choose a better time 
if travel were my object in coming to this great land. I 
represent a large arms manufactory, and my principals 
fancied some business might be done here.” 

“ North or South, monsieur ? ” 

“ Oh, as for that, it is discretionary, I am looking for 
customers,” replied the adroit foreigner, as he eyed Senator 
Benjamin still talking with the Mayor of New York. 

“Are you looking at Senator Benjamin, monsieur ?” 

“ Is that short man with the large head the celebrated 
Senator Benjamin ? ” 

“The same,” replied his fair interlocutor. “By the 
way, he might be of service to you, too, you must let me 
introduce you.” 

“I should consider it a great privilege. Is he not of 
Hebrew descent ? His name would indicate it, and he 
surely favors the type.” 

“ He is a Louisianian, more than that I cannot tell you, 
but he is coming this way — Senator,” Mr. Benjamin ap- 
proached his hostess, and Monsieur Laujac arose, the pre- 
sentation was made, and mentioning that Monsieur Laujac 
had recently arrived from Europe, Madeleine escaped, to 
look after the comfort of her other guests. 

“We are always glad to welcome our friends from across 
the water, Monsieur Laujac,” said Senator Benjamin im- 
mediately addressing the stranger in his own tongue. 


68 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ How do you Europeans view our present complications ? 
Are you waiting for us to cut each other’s throats, before 
you step in and separate us ? ” 

“ We are not so unchristian as to hope that, Senator Ben- 
jamin, hut we are not too highly civilized, I admit, to refrain 

from meddling with our neighbors’ affairs, unless ” 

“Unless, unless, you could perchance benefit thereby,” 
responded the Senator significantly, and then added, as if 
it were an afterthought, “ how long since Christian feeling 
influenced the actions of civilized states, when self-interest 
was at stake ? ” 

“We have not yet reached the millennium, Senator, but 
I assure you that the Church is very far from wishing the 
South to suffer from Northern aggression.” And as he 
spoke Monsieur Laujac eyed the Senator keenly. 

“ Monsieur Laujac, this is, after all, hardly the place to 
discuss matters of such import,” replied the Senator quietly. 
“ May I hope to see you again soon ? ” 

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, Senator, I am 

stopping at the Astor House and ” 

“ Come, come, gentlemen,” said Madeleine approaching, 
“no commercial transactions here to-night, if you please; 
are you trying to sell the Senator a few thousand stands 
of arms. Monsieur Laujac ? ” 

“ On the contrary, Miss Cateret, Monsieur Laujac has just 
been assuring me of the necessity of more shepherds for 
our flocks, nothing certainly could be more peaceful than 
that,” replied the Senator in a most affable tone. Made- 
leine looked from one to the other, somewhat mystified. 

“ I shall not ask an explanation now, for we are going 
down to supper. Senator, will you be kind enough to give 
me your arm ? Monsieur, will you give yours to Miss Rich- 
mond ? ” 

For the rest of the evening the conversation was general, 
and when Monsieur Laujac bade his hostess good-night, ho 
received a cordial invitation to call. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


169 


, CHAPTER XVIII. 

A CHAMPION OF CHAMPIONS. 

“ What an odd thing it is, Maddy, for me to do busi- 
ness for a man I have never seen,” remarked Mr. Cateret 
to Madeleine at their customary breaklast-table talk. 

“ Not so strange either, papa, if Mr. what is the 

gentleman’s name ? ” 

“ Kenner,” replied her father. 

“Well, if this Mr. Kenner lives in Chicago, as I think 
you said he did, it’s not so strange.” 

“ No, but I don’t think I said he lived in Chicago. I 
got that idea, how, I don’t know. I think I said I fancied 
so. Another lump of sugar, Maddy, please — as I was say- 
ing, it seems to me odd he doesn’t call on me.” 

“ Does Mr. Dawes know him, papa, you said he traded 
with Mr. Dawes ? ” 

“ Trade with Dawes, I should think he did, he has al- 
ready made an immense fortune with Dawes; his hundred 
thousand with me, was nothing to what he made with 
Dawes.” 

“ I’ll tell you how we will arrange it, papa,” said Made- 
leine. “I know Mr. Dawes; I’ll invite him to dine with 
us some day, and ask him to bring Mr. Kenner with him.” 

“ Splendid, Maddy, splendid, when shall it be ? Ask 
him soon, for I want some more commissions out of him. 
Lucky ‘Silver’ paid up before that deal was closed, it 
makes me shiver yet to think of it.” 

“Yes, you had a narrow escape; I hope it won’t occur 
again, papa. I’ll ask them soon, don’t hurry me, there are 
several things to be thought of first.” 


;o 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“Hurry it up, Maddy, the sooner the better. Is it 
money you need ? here’s a hundred/’ handing her a roll of 
money. Madeleine placed the roll by the side of her plate. 

“ Let me manage the affair in my own way, papa, you 
will not regret it.” Mr. Cateret saw it was nause to argue 
with his daughter, he was sure to be worsted. 

Madeleine had a plan, which she determined to carry 
out before the dinner party. In a general way she knew 
something of Gus’ life, and little Davie’s, and she had formed 
so high an opinion of Gus’ shrewdness and reliability, that 
she wished to have him in partnership with her father; both 
as an adviser, and as a check upon his loose way of doing 
business. JHe had cunning, shrewdness and a close mouth; 
she did not propose to have Mr. Dawes know all her opera- 
tions, if she entered the market again; and Gus would 
carry out her schemes faithfully. She had at different 
times talked with him of his life, and woman-like, had 
planned a match between him and Bessie, whom she had 
not yet seen. 

One night, a few days after the conversation between 
Madeleine and her father, “Davie’s Roost ” was the scene 
of great excitement; the two families w r ere now very in- 
timate; in fact they seemed like one family, for they took 
their meals together, dividing the expenses; and Mrs. 
Merrill superintended the culinary arrangements. This 
particular night, they were waiting for Bessie, who, as has 
been said, was a milliner’s assistant. She was usually at 
home before dark, but this evening something delayed her, 
until all began to grow uneasy. Bessie was an unusually 
pretty girl; she had a neat figure, a sweet face, and was 
exceedingly modest and winning in her demeanor. She 
was a great favorite with the customers of Madame Cin- 
tra, and Mrs. Merrill thought possibly she might have 
been detained upon this account. 

Gus was about to go down to see if he could meet her. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


I/I 

when they heard her quick foot-fall on the stairs, and sud- 
denly Bessie rushed into the room all excitement, and 
threw herself sobbing into her mother’s arms. 

“What is it, Bessie dear?” asked Mrs. Merrill sooth- 
ingly, “tell mother.” 

“ Oh ! that man ! that awful man ! ” sobbed Bessie as 
though she were in mortal terorr. 

“Was it the same one, Bessie?” asked her mother. 
Bessie nodded her head, but could not speak. Mrs. Merrill 
then told the boys, who were looking on, with their eyes 
wide open, that twice before, some gentleman had tried to 
follow Bessie home. 

“What did he do, Bessie?” asked Gus, his great hands 
working nervously, and his face turning white with anger. 

“ He — he — tried to ki — kiss me,” sobbed Bessie hysteri- 
cally. 

“Was he down-stairs when you ran up, Bessie dear?” 
again asked Gus. 

“ Yes, Gussie, he stopped at the door,” said Bessie, with 
a little more composure , f< he’s a horrid thing, and meets 
me almost every night when I come home.” 

Gus said nothing, but putting on his hat, took hold of 
her hand and drew her toward the door. 

“ Where are you going, Gussie ? ” she cried terror- 
stricken. 

“ Come down with me, Bessie, he must stop this or I’ll 
stop his wind,” he said, gritting his teeth. And he urged 
Bessie toward the door again. 

“No, no, Gussie,” cried the poor girl, fearing Gus would 
get into trouble, “ I don’t mind it. Ugh ! the dirty thing,” 
trying to rub off an imaginary kiss from her lips. 

“You do mind it, and so do I, and this must be stopped. 
Don’t be afraid, I’ll fix him,” said Gus confidently. 

Bessie followed reluctantly, and Mrs. Merrill and Davie 
accompanied them to the bottom of the stairs. 


72 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


" Now, yon step out, and see if he is there,” said Gus, 
“ if he speaks to you, or pays the least attention to you, 
call me.” 

Bessie stepped out, and looked quickly about. 

" Yes, there he is, he sees me,” she said in an undertone. 

" Never mind, walk along the street a little,” whispered 
Gus. Bessie did as directed, and soon came a cry, " Gussie, 
Gussie! ” 

Gus rushed out, and saw a large, fine-looking man stand- 
ing near Bessie, and trying to put his arm around her. 

Gus caught him by the shoulder and pulled him away 
from her roughly. 

" Run away, Bessie,” he said, " I’ll attend to this man.” 

"Who are you, you dirty scoundrel?” exclaimed the 
big fellow. "What do you mean by pulling me in that 
fashion ?” and he made a lunge at Gus, hut the doughty 
Gus parried the blow very easily. 

" 0 Davie,” cried Bessie, who stood a little way oil with 
Davie, "he’s so big, I’m afraid he’ll hurt Gussie.” Davie 
laughed with scorn. 

"You don’t know Gus; wait a bit, Bessie,” the little 
fellow whispered hoarsely, all excitement at the fray. 

As if to corroborate Davie, they saw the big one reel at 
a blow from Gus, but he was strong, and did not fall. He 
came at Gus madder than ever, but it was all over in a 
second — crack ! smash ! Gus’ adversary threw up his hands 
and fell into the gutter, his silk hat rolled off, and his fine 
suit of clothes was daubed with mud and water. 

" What’s the row here ? ” inquired a policeman, strolling 
up leisurely. " Oh, it’s you, is it, Gus ? What d’yer hit the 
big un fur ? ” 

"He insulted a lady friend of mine, Dan, and I gave 
him ‘one, two.’” 

" Oli ! that’s it, let’s see what he looks like, not a beauty 
now, I’ll bet,” laughed the officer, stooping down and roll- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 1^3 

ing the man over; his face was swollen and bleeding, but 
Gus immediately recognized him. 

“ By heaven ! it’s ‘ Silver/ ” 

“ Who’s ‘ Silver ? ’ that’s a queer name,” said the officer. 

“ He’s a stock-broker, and that’s his nickname. I’m 
sorry I hurt him, but it served him right. He’s coming 
to, Dan, put him in a carriage, and take him to the Astor, 
he lives there; you needn’t mention who struck him. I’ll 
pay the carriage, here’s five, keep the change, Dan.” 

“All right, me boy. I’ll see him home safe, trust me,” 
and calling a passing carriage, the policeman hustled the 
half conscious, and badly demoralized stock-broker into it. 

“ Drive to the Astor, cabby, this fellow’s been on a big 
spree. I’ll touch him for a fiver, and we’ll divvy,” said the 
clever guardian of the peace. Gus’ five went business-like 
into his own pocket. 

“0 Gussie,” said Bessie, “I’m so glad you’re safe,” and 
sobbing she leaned her head on Gus’ shoulder. 

“Good boy, Gussie, I knew you’d do the trick,” said 
Davie approvingly. 

“ ’Twas too easy, Davie,” said Gus, scornfully, looking 
over his shoulder at Davie; “ but who do you think it 
was?” 

“ Don’t know, who was it, Gussie ? ” 

“Silver.” 

“ No!” 

“Sure! I don’t think he knew me, though, he hadn’t 
time to think,” and Gus laughed, and then they all ran 
up-stairs, where Mrs. Merrill, who had preceded them, was 
found. Bessie rushed off into the bedroom, bathed her 
face and brushed her hair, returning in a few moments all 
smiles. Gus, too, made himself a little more presentable, 
and when he returned to the room, Bessie-fixed her eyes on 
her hero in a way that made him hot and cold by turns. 
Then seemingly a great resolution seized him, and catch- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


*74 

iiig her around the waist, he drew her to him, and walking 
up to Mrs. Merrill said : 

“ Mother, will you give her to me for my little wife? 
You know I’m not a handsome man, nor a rich one; but 
I’ve got enough to start on. I made a thousand dollars on 
the rise in stocks lately, and we can furnish up some rooms 
in a nice place, and then Bessie will not have to go to the 
shop, and I can protect her.” And the great, awkward, 
big-hearted fellow trembled as he had not done before his 
huge antagonist a few moments since. Bessie cuddled 
close up to her “ Gussie,” and looked appealingly at her 
mother. 

Although Mrs. Merrill had long known Bessie’s heart 
was irrevocably lost, the abruptness of the demand took 
her breath away. 

“ Gussie, my dear son, you may have her; she has been a 
sweet daughter to me, and will be a loving wife to you, 
still you are both very young, perhaps ” 

"0 mother dear, I’m so happy,” cried Bessie, leaving 
Gus’ side and throwing her arms around her mother’s 
neck, “ I’m not so very young, either, I’m ’most eighteen,” 
she whispered, blushing. 

But here Davie interrupted, and drawing a chair along 
he caught Gus’ hand and mounting his chair he spread his 
hands out and in mock solemnity, “ bless you, my chil- 
dren,” he cried, “ be happy ” 

A knock was heard at the door, Davie leaped down and 
opened the door, when Miss Cateret and her father ap 
peared. 

“ Good-evening, Augustus,” said Madeleine, coming in. 
“ So we have found you at last; and this is Davie and Mrs. 
Merrill and Bessie. You see I know you all. This is my 
father, Mrs. Merrill.” 

Mrs. Merrill bowed, and had just presence of mind 
enough to wipe off some imaginary dust from a chair, and 


Not to the swift. 


•i7S 

present it to Mr. Cateret, and beg him to be seated. Gus 
found one for Madeleine, who put them all at their ease; 
for here she sank all her hauteur and pride, and it was diffi- 
cult to resist her charm of manner. Bessie sat in open 
wonderment at her grand style of beauty, and willingly con- 
fessed afterward, that among all the wealthy and aristo- 
cratic patrons of Madame Cintra, there was not one who 
approached Madeleine for beauty and elegance. Soon they 
were all chatting away briskly, and while Gus and Made- 
leine were having a little private talk, the story of Gus’ 
encounter with the burly blackguard, “ Silver,” was told to 
Mr. Cateret. 

“ Served him right, Gus,” he said, “ I'm glad you thrashed 
him.” 

“ Please don't mention it, Mr. Cateret, I think he's pun- 
ished enough,” said Gus modestly. 

Meanwhile Madeleine drew Bessie aside, and questioned 
her in a way which caused her some embarrassment, and 
then Madeleine put her arms around her and kissed her 
affectionately. 

“ Come, papa,” she said, “ I think we must go now, I'm 
afraid we are keeping our friends from their supper.” 
And w r ith a winning smile to Bessie, and a “ good-night ” 
to all, they left the little household to discuss the events 
of the evening. * 

Only Davie said nothing until Bessie, noticing this, asked 
him the cause, for cripple though he was, Davie exercised 
a wonderful power over the household. He had grown to 
be a student, and was very thoughtful and observant, as 
most deformed people are, and they all looked to him for 
counsel. 

“My dear Bessie, I don’t know; Miss Cateret is very 
beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the world, I think, 
but there is something I can't make out about her. She 
comes here for some purpose, and I can't make out what.” 


176 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


" I’ll tell you what, Davie,” said Gus, unable to contain 
himself at this heresy of Davie’s toward his idol, and 
springing up he caught a plate, tossed it toward the ceil- 
ing, and catching it as it fell on the tip of his finger he 
spun it around, caught it again,and having bowed, he said : 

" Ladies and gentlemen : Allow me to introduce to you 
the junior member of the firm of James Cateret & Co.,” 
and Gus placed his hand on his heart and bowed again. 

"You don’t mean it, Gussie, are you taken into the 
firm ? ” inquired Davie. 

" That’s just what I am, and that’s what brought Miss 
Cateret and her father here to-night. Now what have you 
got to say against Miss Cateret ? ” 

" I give it up, Gussie,” said Davie penitently. 

"And I’ll tell you something,” said Bessie, blushing, and 
her eyes sparkling. "She has promised to furnish our 
house for us when we are married ; furnish it from top to 
bottom ; now, Mr. Davie, what do you say ? ” 

" She’s a hummer,” murmured Davie. 

It was long after midnight when they all retired that 
night, and it was settled that Bessie should remain in the 
store until January, and a month or two after that they 
should be married, and all would live together as heretofore. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


1 77 


CHAPTER XIX. 

MRS. RICHMOND GIVES A RECEPTION. 

Since Hugo’s meeting with Madeleine at Schaus’ he 
had worked industriously on his large historical painting 
of “ Coligny’s Death.” Stimulated by Madeleine’s evident 
interest, and in the hope that with increasing fame would 
come a tenderer feeling on her part — for he confessed him- 
self held to her by a fascination he could not resist — he 
had almost secluded himself from the public. Little was 
known of his work save the two or three pictures he had 
exhibited in the public galleries. He had altogether 
twenty or twenty-five finished pictures, the result of his 
five years’ work in Paris. What the critics had said was 
all favorable, but this was not satisfactory to Grace, his 
first patroness; and proud of her new friend, and his tal- 
ent, she determined to have his merits brought to the no- 
tice of New Yorkers in the proper manner, through an 
exhibition of his entire work. Being the pet of the house, 
she easily persuaded her mother to give a reception in 
Hugo’s honor. His consent to this plan having been ob- 
tained, preparation began. Hundreds of invitations were 
sent out to all prominent people of their acquaintance, the 
large parlors were denuded of all their decorations, a row 
of gas jets shaded by reflectors circled the rooms, and 
Hugo himself, attended to the proper hanging of the pic- 
tures. Canvas covered the rich carpets, and the only thing 
Grace permitted to be introduced into the rooms, was a 
profusion of palms and foliage plants. When the evening 
came, and Hugo took his place beside Mrs. Richmond to 

12 


i;8 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


be presented to her guests, he found Grace established on 
his left; and few who passed the distinguished-looking 
couple on that evening, but thought, “what a splendid 
match that would make.” There was an indescribable 
foreign air about Hugo, due perhaps partially to -his lin- 
eage; and his easy, courtly manners attracted the eyes of 
old and young alike. As for Grace; slender, willowy, and 
elegant in person, with the aid of a toilet combining the 
charm of perfect taste, and faultless style; she united a 
winning deportment which made each new arrival feel that 
her cordiality was reserved for them especially. Mean- 
while, Hugo allowed his eyes to rove over the assembled 
guests. 

“ I wonder what keeps Madeleine,” burst out Grace im- 
patiently, as if in answer to his unspoken question. Hardly 
were the words uttered before Madeleine appeared, leaning 
on the arm of Monsieur Laujac. 

“ Here she comes, Mr. Bernhard, how lovely she looks,” 
as Madeleine slowly made her way to where Mrs. Richmond 
stood; nodding to Grace in recognition, as she came up. 

“ I took the liberty of bringing my friend, Monsieur 
Laujac, Mrs. Richmond,” — at the same time presenting 
that gentleman, who paid the hostess one of those agree- 
able, but meaningless, French compliments, which make 
the social life of that people so void of stiffness, and yet 
carry with them no weight of responsibility. 

Hugo was equally favored with a little added air of def- 
erence, and as for Grace, when her turn came, Monsieur 
Laujac’s ready tongue found sufficient license to bring a 
rosy blush to her cheek. 

“ So that is the artist ? An American ? Miss Cateret,” 
inquired Monsieur Laujac. 

“Yes, indeed, a thorough American, born in Connecti- 
cut, and a pupil of Delacroix.” 

“Eugene Delacroix, one of my most intimate friends; I 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 1 79 

wonder I never met Mr. Bernhard there. He looks like a 
Frenchman, do yon not think so ? ” 

“I think Mr. Bernhard senior was a Hungarian, and 
that may account for his son’s foreign looks,” replied 
Madeleine indifferently. 

The inspection of the pictures soon became an impossi- 
bility. So many people wished to speak to Madeleine, 
that although she found Monsieur Laujac an invaluable 
aid — he seeming thoroughly up in art, and able to show 
her where Hugo had followed his master, and when he had 
branched out independent — they were jostled and addressed 
so often, that half his fine criticism was lost to her. 

“ Delacroix was intensely tragic in his conceptions, and 
Mr. Bernhard in his historical pictures is mild in compari- 
son; he seems more to follow Ary Scheffer, by whom you 
say he was taught for a while. His work is smoother, and 
more finished, but not as bold, as original as Delacroix’s, 
still, he has great talent, Miss Cateret,” he said, as they 
stood before a picture representing a “ bonne ” climbing up 
the side of a ship to see her lover. The moment chosen 
was when a child which she held in her arms had through 
her thoughtlessness fallen into the water. The aspect of 
terror on the girl’s face, the eager lover, not knowing what 
had happened, reaching over the bulwarks to help her in, 
and below the struggling babe still floating; with a boat 
pulling rapidly to its rescue, formed a scene which actually 
happened in Delacroix’s own life, and Hugo had seized 
upon it to paint an immensely realistic picture. 

Monsieur Laujac’s praise was pleasing to Madeleine, and 
she would have urged him to continue, when her attention 
was arrested by a gruff voice behind her, which said : 

“So, my little lady, before; it was whist, and now it is 
pictures you wish to learn about.” Monsieur Laujac’s eyes 
happened to rest on Madeleine as the voice fell on their 
ears, and he remarked a sudden change in her expression. 


i8o 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Her calm, dignified, self-poised air all deserted her; a bright 
smile beamed over her face, and a sort of helpless baby 
look came into her eyes. Although inwardly Madeleine 
resented the familiar tone of the Commodore, when she 
turned to greet the brusque, but good-natured, old gentle- 
man, not a trace of annoyance was visible. All this af- 
forded the thoughtful Jesuit food for reflection. 

" There’s nothing wrong in taking lessons either in whist 
or pictures, is there, Commodore Yanderfelt? especially 
when the teacher is a master;” and the infantile look 
with which Madeleine gazed up into the Commodore’s 
eyes was refreshing in its coolness and innocence. 

"What a consummate actress,” thought Monsieur Lau- 
jac. "What does all this mean?” Madeleine without 
hesitation introduced the two gentlemen to each other. 

"Commodore, allow me to present Monsieur Laujac; 
Monsieur Laujac, Commodore Yanderfelt.” Monsieur 
Laujac bowed low upon hearing the name of the distin- 
guished capitalist. " Be humble before the rich and pow- 
erful, that you may the better gain their good-will and 
confidence,” is a part of the secret instruction these people 
receive from their teachers. Monsieur Laujac had not 
forgotten his instructors’ advice. 

The Commodore stared at Monsieur Laujac through his 
eye-glasses, slightly acknowledging the introduction, and 
then turning to Madeleine he evidently forgot that such 
a person existed. With a few hasty words in French, 
Madeleine informed Monsieur Laujac that she had special 
reasons for desiring to talk with the Commodore, and 
begged him to excuse her, which he with great politeness 
acceded to. 

" Who’s your French friend, Miss Cateret ? ” inquired 
the Commodore, tucking her arm under his, and com- 
mencing the circuit of the rooms. 

"A gentleman who had a letter of introduction from 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. l8l 

some friends in Paris, Commodore — but why haven’t you 
made that call you promised me ? ” 

“ Too busy in the market. Miss Cateret. By the way, 
Dawes lost that hat,” remarked the old gentleman, bunch- 
ing his bushy eyebrows, and looking down on Madeleine. 

" Indeed ! ” answered Madeleine, quickly, “ then I won 
my ring, did I not ? ” 

“ Not so fast, my dear child ; my offer was that you 
should get the ring if Dawes ‘bit;’ he refused the bait, 
and I did not land my fish.” 

“ Dear me,” said Madeleine, with a little “ moue ” of dis- 
content, “I counted upon it; you seemed so sure, too.” 
Again the Commodore scanned his companion’s face; 
but innocence was so plainly marked there, that he began 
to fancy his suspicions foolish. “Pshaw!” he said to him- 
self, “this chick could not have understood me. Never 
mind, my dear,” he said aloud, “ there’s another ‘ hen on/ 
you’ll get it yet, perhaps.” 

“A * hen on,’ ” exclaimed Madeleine, “ that’s not whist 
talk, I know, that’s slang.” And she opened her grand 
eyes, and in their innocent depths the Commodore saw 
only wonder at his expression. 

“It may be slang, but it’s expressive.” Then bending 
over her, he whispered: “Lincoln will be elected, sure, 
and there will be the biggest kind of a ‘ boom,’ look out 
for it, I have just heard from Washington and — ahem — do 
you like that picture. Miss Cateret ? ” and without waiting 
for an answer, he dragged her away a few paces. “ That 
confounded French jackanapes was hanging around us,” 
he said in explanation, and Madeleine noticed Monsieur 
Laujac attentively examining a picture near them. Just 
then Grace came up and begged the Commodore to permit 
her to take Madeleine away, as a few of the ladies wished 
to consult with her about the ball to the Prince which was 
to take place in a few days. Keluctantly the Commodore 


182 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


relinquished her arm, and Grace hurried her away, while 
the Commodore, thrusting his thumb into the arm-hole of 
his vest, marched off with the suspicion of a scowl on his 
features. 

Madeleine was conducted by Grace to the dining-room, 
where a few ladies, thinking this a favorable opportunity, 
were congregating to discuss the ball; with them was 
Mayor Wood. The subject was the decoration of the 
Academy, and so many suggestions had been made that 
everybody was at sea as to the proper plan. 

"I do not see of what use I can be, Mr. Wood. Has it 
occurred to you to ask the advice of Mr. Bernhard about 
the matter ? ” asked Madeleine, when the Mayor requested 
her advice. 

“Just the thing we wanted. Miss Cateret, I knew you 
could help us out. Where is Mr. Bernhard ? ” 

“ Mr. Bernhard will do excellently to help see about the 
decoration, Mr. Mayor, but there is something more to be 
considered,” broke in Mrs. Pierpoint, an elderly dame of 
the Martha Washington type. “ How about the dancing, 
and the order for supper ? We don't have princes visit us 
every day.” And having delivered herself of this truism, 
the stately dame fanned herself vigorously. 

“ I presume the wife of the highest official present will 
dance the first dance with the Prince, Mrs. Pierpoint,” 
remarked Madeleine. 

“ Quite correct, Miss Cateret. Governor Morgan will 
be present, and Mrs. Morgan is entitled to precedence, and 
as for the order at supper, we must arrange that later,” 
said the Mayor, willing to suppress Mrs. Pierpoint. Just 
at that moment Hugo came up. 

“Speaking of supper, I think I see it coming, Miss 
Cateret, suppose we get seats,” he whispered. But the 
seats were all taken, and the room was crowded with people 
standing against the wall, unable to put down cup or plate, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


83 


so little was tlie proper way to entertain understood in 
those days. Just then lingo spied the conservatory, from 
which a number of the ferns and palms had been removed 
for the decoration of the parlors, and with a bench for a 
seat, and an upturned box for a table, he saw they could 
at least avoid eating as if at a lunch counter. Pointing 
this out to Madeleine, they took immediate possession; 
and corralling a colored servant, he steered him into the 
conservatory and unloaded a liberal supply of food upon 
the improvised table ; all this just suited Madeleine, who 
seemed in a merry mood. 

“ You are a famous caterer, Mr. Bernhard, you always 
succeed in making people around you comfortable, you 
recollect I have before experienced your thoughtful provi- 
sion.” Hugo was pleased at the reference to their trip. 

“ Do you ever think of our long passage, Miss Cateret ?” 

“ Do I ? It was the happiest time I have known in the 
past year.” 

Hugo’s face flushed at the pleasure this remark gave 
him. 

“ You don’t mean it ?” 

“ I do, indeed, Mr. Bernhard. I was free and happy 
then, with no cares, and I was coming home. My only 
annoyances were physical ones — to be sure I thought them 
then terrific — the weather was not half bad, the air perfect, 
good company to talk to ” — with a little side look, which 
completely demoralized Hugo— “what more could I ask ? ” 

“And is your life so disagreeable now, Miss Cateret ? ” 
he ventured to say, watching Madeleine who was toying 
with an ice. 

“Oh, not disagreeable, but different, very different; do 
you know, I seem years older since last spring.” 

“You surprise me, Miss Cateret, life should be one grand 
holiday for you, and here you seem actually distressed.” 

Madeleine shrugged her shoulders, and her thin nostrils 


1 84 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


curled, not at the speaker, but at his ignorance of what 
her life was. Hugo looked at her delicate profile outlined 
against one of the shades, and wondered wl^at her troubles 
were; could he only share them how happy he would be! 
Hurried on by the impulse, all love and sympathy, he 
leaned toward her and said : 

“I, too, have often thought of our trip, Miss Madeleine,” 
— it was the first time he had ever addressed her by her 
Christian name — she did not seem to notice it, however. 
“ Was I to blame if I had some fancies which I have 
learned to cherish since ? Am I wrong to call the happiest 
days of my life, those few I spent with you upon the water, 
Madeleine ? ” and his rich voice vibrated with the intensity 
of his emotions — “ I have dared to love you. If your life 
is not pleasant now, I can make it so. I can remove these 
clouds which seem to oppress you. Give me the right, the 
privilege; have I won no place in your heart ? Is my coming 
and going alike indifferent to you ? You, whose presence 
fills my heart with gladness, whose lightest wish is law to 
me! Tell me, Madeleine, have I no hope ? ” It would be 
foolish to say that Madeleine did not know this was com- 
ing. What woman is there to whom such a declaration 
comes unexpectedly ? A girl, whoever she be, would be 
ashamed not to be moved by such an appeal, made by a 
man like Hugo. 

Was Madeleine so moved ? In a way, yes. Her vanity 
was touched, and her ambition gratified; beyond that she 
was not stirred. Hugo was handsome, talented, and intel- 
lectual. Her self-love was gratified at his adoration ; but 
it was difficult to say if this girl had the emotions, the 
sentiment, or passions, which her beauty inspired in others. 
Madeleine’s nature was essentially a cold one, there was none 
of that tenderness, that soft yieldingness so characteristic 
of womanly minds. She could not give herself up to an- 
other, with the fervor love’s passion demands. She was 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


135 

too absorbed in self, had too many projects to gratify, to 
have her heart respond to the cry which went out from 
the man who so loved her. Hugo looked in her face to 
read the verdict : it was white and calm, and her lips were 
set when she turned her face toward him. 

“Mr. Bernhard, Hugo” — she had not intended so to 
speak, but a glance at his face drew it out, and for a mo • 
ment her judgment was overcome — “have I encouraged 
this ? Am I at fault ? What shall I say to you, to cause 
you to relinquish this foolish fancy ? You do not know 
me, Hugo. I am not the girl you imagine me. With your 
artist soul, you have doubtless endowed me with qualities 
I do not possess; believe me, I am the commonest kind of 
common clay. I will be frank with you, as I would not 
if you had not so honored me. Stop! ” seeing Hugo about 
to speak, “ listen to me. I do like you thoroughly, more 
than most men, more than any man I have ever known ; 
but my nature is not a loving one. You speak of freeing 
me from care; you little realize what my life is. I have 
in me the ambitions, the schemes, the projects of a man. 
The passions w^ich stir me, are not the emotions, the 
vague desires, the heart longings, which go with love’s de- 
lights. Yes, it is wise to shrink from me” — noticing 
Hugo’s involuntary withdrawal — “I live in a world of 
schemes, of intrigue, of speculation, in which love has no 
place. Look elsewhere for your happiness, my poor Hugo.” 

“ But Madeleine, if you love no one, may I not hope ? 
The future may bring a change of feeling. I will wait; I 
am patient, let me try to win your love,” and Hugo’s hand 
sought hers. 

“ No, Hugo, it is useless. I am what I am, and no love 
can change me; good Hugo, give up this futile passion, it 
is flat, stale, and unprofitable — but here is Monsieur Lau jac 
looking for us.” Hugo seemed somewhat conscious, as 
Monsieur Laujac came into the conservatory, but Made- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


1 86 

leine’s face was a blank, and the cunning priest, who di- 
vined something of what was happening, could read nothing 
there. 

“ I beg a thousand pardons, Miss Cateret, but Miss Rich- 
mond sent me to look for Monsieur Bernhard, her guests 
are already taking their departure 7 ’ 

Hugo thanked him and excused himself. 

“ Monsieur Bernhard seems somewhat disturbed, you 
were not scolding him, Miss Cateret ? ” remarked Monsieur 
Laujac. 

“ On the contrary, I was encouraging him, he was anx- 
ious about the verdict on his work. Shall we go to make 
our adieux ? ” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


I8; 


CHAPTER XX. 

THREE CONSPIRATORS. 

Viewed collectively, the study of mankind resembles 
the inspection of a distant landscape through a powerful 
field glass. What was before only a confused mass of 
colors, projections and depressions, becomes by the aid of 
a glass, rocks, trees, hills, valleys and bodies of water. We 
can arrive at a general idea of the configuration of the 
land and its salient features, but to understand the nature 
of the soil, the grasses, grain, the species of wood, the 
fauna and flora, a more minute inspection is demanded, 
and microscopical observations must be taken. Collec- 
tively, man has a definite form, and a fixed mode of progres- 
sion, he is evidently gregarious in tendency. That he has 
emotions, passions, and moods, is evident. Of his nature, 
his intelligence, his ambition, virtues, and vices, we can 
know nothing without submitting them to the laws of the 
human intellect. We must analyze these emotions, scruti- 
nize that physical being, and turn the intellectual micro- 
scope of the mind upon those actions, before we rightly 
comprehend them. No opportunity is more favorable for 
the study of this complex animal, man, than that afforded 
during his convivial moments. Possibly Dr. Maginn knew 
this, for he planned a little supper to which he would in- 
vite Senator Benjamin and Monsieur Laujac. 'Twas no 
“ Barmecide feast ” to which he bade them; as a few even- 
ings later, they met in one of the little supper rooms at 
Delmonico’s. Himself an ardent worshipper at the shrine 
of the tenth muse, Gasteria, he conned his gastronomic 


1 88 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


bark in such a way as to command the admiration of his 
two passengers. Dr. Maginn fully realized that “when 
you invite a friend to sup with you, for the time being, his 
happiness is in your hands.” 

To fathom the mysteries of assimilation, and to investi- 
gate its effects upon the human mind, was one of the doc- 
tor’s profound studies. 

Imprimis, he required the table to be small, that the 
facial expressions of his guests, under the enchantment of 
his culinary conceptions, might be easily noticed. A gas- 
tronome of the first order, he dignified his guests by pre- 
suming that they also possessed cultivated tastes. Nor 
was he mistaken. If it be true, that “a man of intellect 
alone knows how to eat,” then Dr. Maginn had two rare 
birds at his table that evening. As the meal progressed, 
delight sat on the features of his guests. Among “ gour- 
mets,” the cultivated Hebrew is easily first, and Senator 
Benjamin was in every respect an ornament to his race. 
Father Laujac, also, was no laggard, he had graduated 
from a good school, and was no disgrace to his preceptors. 
As the last dish disappeared and a smoking bowl of punch 
took its place. Dr. Maginn felt that as Amphytrion, he had 
not failed to interest his guests. Fouclie, Napoleon’s emi- 
nent Minister of Police, always entertained at a “petit 
souper ,” any person he designed to entrap, or turn over to 
his side in any political intrigue. lie said: “First estab- 
lish the friendly relations which go with a dinner well 
considered, and well served, then introduce while digestion 
is active, your educational topic.” Dr. Maginn must have 
studied in the school of Fouche, for during their sym- 
posium, no word was dropped which would indicate any 
interest in politics; on the contrary, all that wit and fancy, 
a droll humor, and unsurpassed talent as a “raconteur” 
could do to establish a friendly feeling between himself 
and his friends, the wily Irishman brought into play. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


189 

While Senator Benjamin was the game he sought, he 
wished to know more of Monsieur Laujac and his char- 
acter. These three men were each a study. An Irishman, 
a Jew, and a Frenchman, brought together by the common 
desire of concerting plans, or aiding and abetting the plans 
of others, for the overthrow of a country to which they 
were aliens. A sad spectacle this of the tigerish instincts 
embodied in human existence. Senator Benjamin was at 
that time about forty-eight years of age; he lacked, per- 
haps, the physical presence and the outward evidences of 
cultivation the other two possessed, but the lack was 
purely physical. Intellectually he was the superior of the 
three. While possessed of a more massive brain he was 
endowed with all the grace of learning, as well as the 
scholastic subtlety, the two Jesuits possessed. An English 
subject of Hebrew parentage, he was, when very young, 
brought to the United States from the West Indies. He 
graduated at Yale and settled in Louisiana as a lawyer, 
and was elected from there to a seat in the Senate. Per- 
sonally he was not prepossessing. His figure was squat, 
his features irregular and somewhat Jewish in type; he 
looked rugged and strong. Intellectually he was a giant; 
as omnivorous a reader as Macaulay; he retained it all, 
and had all his vast learning at ready command. The two 
Jesuits were fine types of their class. Monsieur Laujac 
was more learned; the doctor more forceful and command- 
ing. Laujac was more adroit and cunning; the doctor 
more persuasive and foresighted. But the English Jew 
w r as one of the most remarkable legal lights of his day and 
century. Dr. Maginn studied him carefully, even while 
his rollicking humor bubbled up like a new spring burst- 
ing forth from a green hillside. After a well-told story, 
hardly decorous for a churchman, but full of humor, he 
turned suddenly to Mr. Benjamin and remarked that the 
last time he was at Washington he had heard on good au- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


I90 

thority, that President Buchanan was considering the pro- 
priety of offering him the vacant Justiceship of the Su- 
preme Court. “ How would that jibe with your present 
views, Senator ? ” he inquired. The laughter in the Sena- 
tor’s eyes faded out as this more serious question was put 
to him. 

“ I have, myself, heard something of that, my dear doc- 
tor, but rest assured it will never be offered me,” he replied 
^ery gravely. 

“And if it were, Senator,” persisted Monsieur Laujac. 

“ Time enough to answer when it is,” smiled the Senator 
parrying his attempt at pumping him. 

“ It would be no surprise if a man at your age rejected a 
position even as honorable as a place for life on the Su- 
preme bench, Senator. Once installed as a member of 
your highest judicial tribunal, you put all else behind you, 
there is no scope for anything beyond; you are labelled 
and ticketed as a specimen fossil, only to be used to illus- 
trate some legal point,” continued Monsieur Laujac. 

“Ha! ha!” laughed the jolly doctor. “Like the Paddy 
in the corn field, he’s there to frighten off litigious crows.” 

“ Still, records have been made in the Supreme Court, 
gentlemen,” replied the Senator. 

“ Y es, and some unsavory ones, too, my dear Senator,” 
again laughed the doctor. 

“Well, gentlemen, I don’t mind telling you, since we 
are all ‘ tarred with the same brush,’ that my State goes 
with her sister States, and before the ides of March, Judah 
P. Benjamin will not be a citizen of the United States.” 
The two Jesuits exchanged a look, but neither syioke. 

“ Yes, Louisiana goes out,” continued the Senator. “ The 
North does not, or will not, comprehend the magnitude of 
this movement, they will not concede State sovereignty. 
The right of a State to govern itself is supreme, when the 
central Government fails to maintain its obligations.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


I 9 I 

“How about individual cities, Senator?” inquired Dr. 
Maginn, carelessly. Mr. Benjamin looked keenly at him, 
and did not immediately answer. The doctor was busy 
getting a light for his cigar. 

Suddenly the Senator broke the silence. 

“ You may be a physician, doctor, but nature intended 
you for a politician,” he remarked dryly. “ There are no 
doubt many things you would like to know, and there are 
some things I am willing to tell; and since the presence 
of our friend, Monsieur Laujac, is proof that he favors the 
Southern cause,” — Monsieur Laujac nodded — “ I am will- 
ing to say — and it would not be well to mention this to 
Miss Oateret, although she is aware of the movement — 
that a plan is on foot tending to the declaration of New 
York as a free and independent city.” 

The statement was a startling one, and new to his lis- 
teners. It was a thing to be reported immediately at 
Rome, and yet to all appearance he might have mentioned 
the quality of the cigar he was smoking, in place of di- 
vulging a secret which might go far toward influencing 
the recognition of the Confederacy by all foreign powers. 
So well trained were these men that not an eyelid quivered, 
and the Senator wondered if they had an inkling of it be- 
fore, or did not comprehend its import. 

“Mayor Wood is naturally in sympathy, I presume, 
Senator,” remarked Monsieur Laujac. 

“ Thoroughly, thoroughly, Twas that brought me here.” 
Then he paused a moment, and a new thought entering 
his mind he continued: “Gentlemen, when. I consider the 
magnitude of our plans and what they involve, I sometimes 
shudder. The North is imbecile; they do not seem to 
realize here, the volcano beneath the city. They act like 
children, talk of buying our slaves, and occasionally, one a 
little bolder £han his fellows, talks of compulsion.” 

“Are you not afraid that when they are aroused the 


192 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


awakening will be tremendous ? ” inquired Monsieur Lau- 
jac. 

“ It should be, my friend, but mark what I say. The 
South is united, the North divided. No Northerner can 
go South now, and find the friends I do here. By the way, 
doctor,” turning to Dr. Maginn, “how does Rome view 
this struggle, you ought to know, being a Catholic ? ” 

“ Perhaps Monsieur Laujac can answer that, Senator, he 
also is Catholic, I believe, and is just over from France,” 
and the doctor turned toward Laujac, in whose face just a 
delicate tinge of pink was visible, evidently the result of 
suppressed emotions. 

Thus appealed to, Monsieur Laujac laid down his cigar, 
and speaking in a smoothly mod ulated tone, disclaimed any 
knowledge beyond what his friend, the doctor, presented. 

“I will say, however, that just at this time the Holy See 
is so much troubled with the actions of Garibaldi, that 
very little attention is paid to anything outside.” 

“All the more reason, it seems to me, that the condition 
of Catholic affairs in this country should interest His Holi- 
ness! He may lose his temporal power, and be glad to 
look to America as a haven of refuge. How is that, Mon- 
sieur Laujac?” asked the Senator laughingly. 

The pink in monsieur's cheeks deepened perceptibly, 
and despite his astuteness, he fell into the trap laid by the 
keen lawyer. Dr. Maginn, who knew his man better, es- 
sayed to attract his attention with a warning frown, but it 
was unnoticed. 

“The French people are a Catholic people, and the Em- 
peror is a Catholic sovereign, but he is also a politician. 
Our hopes are based on the Empress, and France may in- 
terfere with Garibaldi, but’ failing that, we look for moral 
aid from America. The South is naturally Catholic, is it 
not so ? ” 

“ My State is,” responded Senator Benjamin, attentively. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


193 


“All the South should he, Senator. All Southern na- 
tions are Catholic, and always will he. Why not use your 
great influence to aid in encouraging its adoption by the 
Southern Confederacy as the State religion ? Do this, and 
the great weight of the Vatican will be thrown into the 
scale to aid your cause. Believe me, slavery is only the 
catchword, the real thing is, the establishment of a South- 
ern Catholic Hierarchy. This movement means the regen- 
eration of the South; it must take on a new spiritual birth, 
and friends will rise up at the sowing of the right seed.” 
As Monsieur Laujac uttered these words his face was ani- 
mated, his eye sparkled and he leaned slightly forward, 
regarding the Senator as if to read the effect of his appeal. 
No doubt he would have continued in this strain, had not 
he received a vicious kick from Dr. Maginn under the 
cover of the table. 

This action made him pause, and drawing back he turned 
his head slowly until he faced the doctor, and the horrible 
scowl which met him there, sobered him up-instantly. He 
saw that he had been making statements, which might 
jeopardize Catholic influence in this struggle. 

Dr. Maginn jumped into the breach. 

“ Beally, Laujac, your enthusiasm is almost infectious, I 
got quite warmed up, as you discoursed so like a pulpiteer. 
I am afraid, however, His Holiness would not thank you 
for putting into his mouth, words which I am sure his 
brain never conceived. No, my dear fellow, the lines are 
too plainly marked, this is not a Catholic country, and 
never will be; I think the Senator will concur in what I 
say,” turning toward Mr. Benjamin. 

“ I am very glad to hear you censure Monsieur Laujac 
as you did, doctor, for if he, or those back of him, hold to 
such views, they will be woefully mistaken. This is no 
religious war, gentlemen. Civil war is bad enough, with- 
out introducing the most terrible element known in his- 

13 


194 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


tory to excite human passions. It is a question of freedom 
of opinion, and Catholicism is opposed to all individual 
thought. My mind sometimes reproaches me when I try 
to foresee what the inevitable must bring to us; blood and 
treasure unlimited will be poured out before the end 
comes.” 

“You have gone too far to draw back now, Senator,” 
said Monsieur Laujac, coldly, “if ‘blood and treasure ' are 
spent, it will be in a good cause; ‘the end justifies the 
means/” This seemed to affect Senator Benjamin un- 
pleasantly. 

“ My dear sir,” he said turning to Monsieur Laujac, 
“your cold-blooded way of disposing of the matter, and 
the Jesuitical quotation you make use of, inspire me with 
the fear that forces outside of our country may be at 
work, striving to foment this revolution, for their own ag- 
grandizement. But I warn you, and those whom you offi- 
cially or unofficially represent, that you must hold your 
hand. You will not be permitted to introduce religion 
into the controversy. It is bad enough that we three for- 
eigners should be plotting the overthrow of this Govern- 
ment, where we are now securely protected; but to add to 
that, the introduction of fanatical religionists to aid the 
scheme, would be base indeed. 

“ Let me say further, that although you appear as a lay- 
man, one could almost swear that you wore a hair shirt 
underneath your well-cut garments, Monsieur Laujac.” 

Monsieur Laujac bowed. “My dear Senator, did you 
ever hear it said, that ‘hypocrisy is a homage which vice 
renders to virtue'? Why not accept the compliment?” 
and a selfish sneer curled his lip. The hot, Southern blood 
came to Senator Benjamin's face, and Dr. Maginn, fear- 
ing an explosion, said hastily : 

“ My dear Laujac, ‘ when wine is in, wit is out,' I shall 
believe you have taken too much of that punch if you 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 195 

don’t tell the Senator that all this talk is mere badinage; 
come, make the amende honorable .” 

“ With pleasure, doctor/’ said his colleague. “ My dear 
Senator, if in the heat of debate I have been rude or se- 
vere, I humbly beg your pardon/’ and he put out his hand, 
palm down, which the Senator took, but not warmly. 

This little incident seemed to mar the harmony of the 
evening, and as the hour was rather late, all arose and be- 
took themselves to their hotels : Senator Benjamin to the 
Fifth Avenue; Dr. Maginn to the New 'York, and Mon- 
sieur Laujac to the Astor. 

The next morning, Monsieur Laujac was up betimes, 
and wrote a full account of Senator Benjamin’s views to 
the General. This finished, he was about to go out when 
his mail was presented to him, and there, uppermost, was 
a letter, in the same handwriting as the one he had received 
the day of his arrival in New York. He knew it instantly, 
it read : 

“ Dear Brother: — It is unnecessary to write the Gen- 
eral concerning Senator Benjamin’s opinions of a Southern 
Catholic Hierarchy. This whole matter will be attended 
to by your Provincial.” 

There was the seal with the stamp. He must obey. 

“ The devil take it, it must be the doctor who has re- 
vealed this, and cut me off.” The postmark was Phila- 
delphia. It had been mailed, then, at six o’clock that 
morning. Without hesitation, although sadly disappointed, 
he destroyed his letter, and determined to ascertain if Dr. 
Maginn was at the bottom of it, he hurried to his hotel. 
Without sending up his card, he went directly to his room, 
knocked, and heard the doctor’s sleepy voice inquire who 
was there. 

“It is I, Laujac.” 

“ Hold on a bit, until I get my uniform on, my dear 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


196 

fellow,” was the reply, and almost instantly he heard the 
doctor spring from the bed, the door was unlocked, and he 
was bade to enter. The sight which met his gaze, was the 
tall figure of his friend, wrapped in an immense red blan- 
ket, making for his bed. 

"Do excuse me for this unseemly exhibition, but I have 
no alternative, my valet is yet to come. Now you are here 
you must take his place. My mail is under the door, be 
good enough to toss it over here.” 

Monsieur Laujac gathered up the letters, and among 
them he saw one with the identical handwriting he had 
received himself. 

" Did you mention our conversation with Senator Benja- 
min to anybody, doctor?” inquired Monsieur Laujac. 

" No one in New York. I telegraphed a friend at Wash- 
ington, that Benjamin must be dropped.” 

" Yes, and spoiled my report to the General, doctor.” 

" How is that ? ” 

" Why, I received notice this morning not to report it.” 

"The dickens! Sorry about that, intended doing it my- 
self.” 

"Cut your own throat, too, or I am mistaken. Read 
your mail.” 

The doctor looked over his mail and picked up the one 
post-marked Philadelphia. A glance at it, and he handed 
it to Monsieur Laujac. 

"Fact! you are right,” — the letter was a fac-simile of 
Monsieur Lau jac’s — " I am sorry, but I felt it necessary to 
inform my friend ” 

"A professed of our Order?” inquired Monsieur Lau- 
jac, interrupting him. 

" No, but a Catholic,” replied the doctor. "And, by the 
way, my mistake was no worse than yours; what possessed 
you to deliver that ex cathedra discourse to Senator Benja- 
min ? ” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 1 97 

“For the very purpose which you spoiled, of getting at 
his sentiments,” replied Monsieur Laujae. 

“ Do you know what might have happened to you, my 
friend ? ” 

“ Well, what, for instance, my learned doctor ?” 

“ Only that he might have bored a hole through you with 
a bullet; better not ruffle his Southern chivalry, my good 
French friend.” 

Monsieur Laujae shrugged his shoulders. “Well, doc- 
tor, Fll leave you to make your toilet. I must call at Miss 
Caterers.” 

“ ‘ So long/ ” replied the doctor with Southern phrase- 
ology. 

“ The ‘ thafe of the worruld/ ” muttered the doctor, as 
Laujae went out, “ he came near spoiling the broth nicely, 
but T checkmated him; now I’ll get off that little report.” 
And before dressing he wrote Rome a full account of the 
conversation; nor did he spare Monsieur Laujae. 


198 


NOT TO THE SWIFT, 


CHAPTER XXI. 

MR. CATERET MEETS CHARLES KENNER. 

Madeleine had not forgotten her promise to Mr. Tatum 
to give him any information which she might learn about 
the stock market. Women of her character never forget 
injuries or slights, and opportunity, persistently sought, 
will sooner or later afford such a kind the great gratifica- 
tion of impaling the victim and studying his frantic strug- 
gles. 

Tatum had treated her so familiarly, had insinuated such 
abominable hints about her relations with Charles Kenner, 
and finally, as she learned, had robbed, for years, her father 
so thoroughly, that he had lost his property, which had 
passed into Tatum’s hands. All this exasperated her. It 
was enough to arouse every vindictive feeling in Made- 
leine’s nature; her pride had been keenly hurt at the old 
man’s low estimate of her moral nature; and he might 
just as safely have delivered himself over into the hands 
of the inquisition as expect mercy from a woman with her 
mental characteristics. 

Personal chastisement would not have satisfied her. She 
thoroughly understood how to make him suffer most keenly, 
through the avaricious side of his nature. A few days 
before this, Madeleine had purchased one of Brewster’s 
finest broughams, and a pair of stylish blacks. A trained 
and skilled coachman was soon secured; and without her 
father’s knowledge, Madeleine found herself the possessor 
of a well-appointed carriage. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


I 99 


On the morning in question, after Mr. Cateret had gone 
to his office, the carriage was ordered up, and Madeleine, 
in an elegant street toilet, issued forth, and directed her 
coachman to drive to Mr. Tatum’s office. For several 
weeks the old gentleman had concealed his impatience, 
hoping to receive the desired information about the mar- 
ket; and the day before, he had received a brief note re- 
questing him to have her father’s note, and the mortgage 
on the house, at hand, as she wished the debt discharged. 

As the elegant and glittering turnout flashed up in 
front of Tatum’s dingy place of business, the old man was 
on the lookout. 

"Ah, ha, my lady,” he thought, “ so you have sold your- 
self; just as I thought; how you’ll make Mr. Kenner dance, 
he’ll need his pile to satisfy you, lady bird.” 

When Madeleine entered the office, Mr. Tatum was busy 
in his private room figuring up the interest on Mr. Cate- 
ret’s note. 

“ Good-morning, Mr. Tatum, I hope you received my 
note,” said Madeleine pleasantly, as in the full flush of her 
beauty, she appeared in the door and looked down scorn- 
fully at the wizened, yellow mummy; who, half doubled 
up, was scratching, and trying to add a few more pennies 
to the sum. 

“ Morning, Miss Cateret. Yes, I got your note, and was 
just figuring up the interest — here it is,” handing Made- 
leine the slip of paper, which she took, and glanced at in- 
differently, then calmly removing her glove, took a check 
from her pocketbook and filled in the amount over the 
signature of Charles Kenner. 

All this Mr. Tatum watched with his little, shining eyes. 

"I presume the mortgage must be cancelled, Mr. Tatum, 
will you attend to that now ? ” remarked Madeleine in the 
most matter-of-fact way. 

" Certainly, certainly. Miss Cateret,” replied Mr. Tatum, 


200 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


glad that he could find an excuse for a few moments of 
further conversation. 

“Wheelock, here, take this mortgage and have it dis- 
charged, and bring it back immediately. ‘You needn’t 
hurry/ ” he whispered, as Wheelock left the office. 

Madeleine handed the check to Mr. Tatum, who scruti- 
nized it carefully, glanced sideways at Madeleine, and 
folded it up, passing Mr. Caterers note over at the same 
time, which Madeleine received and put away carefully. 

“Will Mr. Wheelock be gone long, Mr. Tatum?” she 
inquired. 

“A few moments, only a few moments, Miss Cateret. 
By the way, you haven’t heard anything about that matter 
we were speaking of the last time you were here ? ” 

“ What was that, Mr. Tatum ? ” said Madeleine, inno- 
cently. 

The old man’s countenance dropped, and he looked 
more sullen and miserable than ever. 

“ Why, you remember, about the information.” 

“ Oh, yes, but you tried to drive too sharp a bargain, 
Mr. Tatum ! I could give you information of a conversa- 
tion I heard last evening between Commodore Vanderfelt 
and Mr. Kenner.’ 

“What!” cried Tatum, “between Vanderfelt and Ken- 
ner, only last evening ? ” 

“ I said ‘ last evening,’ Mr. Tatum, I believe,” said Made- 
leine, her lip curling. 

“What was it, my dear Miss Cateret?” whined Tatum, 
now all servility at the prospect of getting some useful hint. 

“ Not so fast, Mr. Tatum, what was our argeement ? ” 

“ Why, why, I promised to give you a hundred if I could 
use the information. Wasn’t that it ? ” 

“Not a bit of it, I get the hundred, and you use the in- 
formation or not, as suits you,” replied Madeleine coolly. 

“ But suppose it can’t be used, suppose it is of no value ? ” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


201 


“ That is your lookout, Mr. Tatum. The information I 
can give you relates to the probable course of the market, 
and is Commodore Yanderfelt’s opinion as given by him 
to Mr. Kenner in my hearing, last evening.” 

“ But suppose he was trying to rope in Kenner, Miss 
Cateret ? ” 

“ You must judge of that, Mr. Tatum. Here is Mr. 
Wheelock, and I must go.” 

“ No, no, wait a moment,” he begged. 

Mr. Tatum went to his safe and returned with a roll of 
money, which he handed Madeleine, together with the sat- 
isfied mortgage. 

“Here is the hundred, now, what was it? It ought to 
be worth something for this large amount.” 

Madeleine counted the money carefully, while Mr. Tatum 
sat fidgeting in his chair, his eyes blinking, and his mouth 
working spasmodically. 

“This is correct, Mr. Tatum,” she said quickly. “Now 
you want my information ? ” 

“ Yes, yes,” hastily replied the impatient old schemer. 

“Well, I heard Commodore Vanderfelt say to Charles 
Kenner — last evening — at a reception at Mrs. Richmond’s 
— that he had certain knowledge from Washington” — 
Madeleine paused. The old gentleman was leaning for- 
ward, the tips of his fingers beating against the chair, 
evincing his high state of excitement; and at Madeleine’s 
stop he looked up. 

“ Well, well, go on, go on.” 

“I was just thinking,” said Madeleine, “that the pay is 
inadequate to the information,” and she looked expectantly 
at the cringing form of the old man, who was now fairly 
trembling with excitement and anger. 

“ What do you mean, Miss Cateret ? You have your 
money; you made your own bargain; do you want to 
squeeze more out of a poor old man ? ” Then dropping 
his aggressive manner he began to wheedle and coax. 


202 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ Now, my dear Miss Cateret, do go on, the matter may 
be important; to make up that money I have given you 
may require prompt action.” 

All this performance Madeleine enjoyed; she had no 
intention of asking more, but she wished to delay a little 
and harrow him up. 

“ Yes, I made my bargain a little too quickly, Mr. Tatum, 
hut I will adhere to it — I heard Commodore Yanderfelt 
say to Mr. Kenner, that he had certain information that 
Lincoln would be elected, and that his election would 
bring a ‘boom* to the market; and he advised purchase of 
stock in anticipation.” 

“Was that all he said?” inquired Mr. Tatum, rather 
dolefully. 

“All he said in my hearing; it seems strong enough,” 
said Madeleine, preparing to go. 

“If it was absolutely sure that Lincoln would he elected, 
the information would be valuable; it is only about a 
month now. Miss Cateret, if you hear anything more you 
will let me know, eh ? ” and Mr. Tatum turned his wizened 
face up at Madeleine appealingly. 

“ Oh, yes,” said Madeleine, indifferently, “ I’ll drop you 
a line if I hear anything.” 

“Curse her, she’s a little devil,” snarled Tatum, as 
Madeleine left the office. 

“ Wheelock, take this check to Ford & Thompson, tell 
them to buy me ten thousand shares of ‘ Central.’ I’ll call 
and see them after * Change.’ Hurry up, now.” 

Wheelock had hardly gone ten steps from the office, 
when he heard a pleasant voice calling, “ Mr. Wheelock.” 
Looking up he saw a carriage at the curb, and Miss Cateret 
leaning out and beckoning him to approach. Half hesi- 
tatingly he did so. Madeleine beamed on him those won- 
drous eyes of hers, and he became attentive. Although 
jostled by the crowd, and conscious that the delay would 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 203 

cost him a torrent of abuse, he listened patiently to all she 
had to say. 

“Are you in a great hurry, Mr. Wheelock ? I wish to 
speak to you.” He might have been in a hurry before; he 
was not then. 

“What can I do for you, Miss Cateret?” he inquired 
politely. 

“ I wanted to ask you if you were satisfied with your 
place, Mr. Wheelock ? ” 

“ Satisfied ? ” he answered wonderingly, “ I must be, it 
is my bread and butter. Miss Cateret.” 

“ If you could do better you would change, no doubt ? ” 

“Instantly. Mr. Tatum is not a pleasant man to work 
for.” 

“ What does he pay you now, Mr. Wheelock ? ” 

“ Eight hundred dollars, and docks me every time I am 
half an hour late.” 

“Does he? well, he’s a brute; how would you like to 
work for the firm of James Cateret & Co., from the 1st of 
January, at twelve hundred without any docking, and a 
Christmas gift ? ” 

“Like it,” gasped Wheelock, “I should like nothing 
better.” 

“Very well, you can consider yourself engaged. Not a 
word to Mr. Tatum, mind. You were going somewhere 
just now ?” 

“Yes, he sent me with a check to Ford & Thompson.” 

“ To buy some stock, perhaps ? ” 

Wheelock nodded, but said nothing; for badly as Tatum 
treated him, he was too honorable to betray him. Made- 
leine saw this instantly, and liked him all the better for it. 

“ He has the instinct of an animal toward his master,” 
she thought, “ the master kicks him but he is still faithful.” 

“ Well, it is understood you can give Mr. Tatum notice 
that you leave his service in January, but do not say whom 


204 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


you have engaged with,” and nodding, she released Mr. 
Wheelock, and directed the coachman to drive home. As 
she said good-morning she pressed into Wheelock’s hand 
the money she obtained from Tatum; “ a little advance,” 
was all she said. 

This same morning Mr. Cateret received a note from 
Madeleine — sent through a messenger boy — requesting him 
to invite Gus and Davie, as well as the Merrills, to dine 
with them that day; also saying that Mr. Dawes and Mr. 
Kenner would join them at dinner. 

I have said Mr. Cateret was a gentleman, and I have 
tried to show that, by this time, he was entirely under the 
domination of his energetic and charming daughter; but 
for a moment, he hesitated. Mr. Cateret recognized that 
there must be a certain fitness in the guests one assembles 
at one’s table. He had no objection to inviting Gus and 
the Merrills, but at the same table with Mr. Kenner and 
Mr. Dawes — that seemed to him a little incongruous. 
Nevertheless, his love or fear of Madeleine conquered his 
personal objections; and in his grandest manner he ex- 
tended the invitation, as if entirely coming from himself 
and as something due his partner to be. 

“Gus, my dear boy, I wish you would ask Davie and the 
Merrills — I trust they will excuse the informality — to dine 
with us to-day. I expect Mr. Dawes and Mr. Kenner, and 
would like them to meet my partner and his family. We 
dine at six, Gus, and you must not fail us. I’ll see you 
after f Change.’ ” 

Gus smiled at his stately manner, well knowing from 
whom the invitation came. He accepted for them all, and 
Mr. Cateret, proud of having done a graceful thing, went 
on the “ Board.” 

Six o’clock came, and Jim Cateret, in the plenitude of an 
expansive shirt front, elaborately frilled, met the Merrills, 
Gus and Davie on their arrival, as he would the most 
honored guests, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


205 

"Prompt as ever, my hoy/’ lie said, shaking hands with 
Gus. " Good-evening, Davie. Mrs. Merrill, I am delighted 
to see that you and your charming daughter did not resent 
my informal invitation. Millie, show the ladies up-stairs. 
Gus, you and Davie step into the library; Mr. Kenner and 
Mr. Dawes are a bit late.” 

To describe the smartness of Augustus Duck, would re- 
quire the pen of a Dickens; from the highly polished 
boots, to his immaculately parted hair, parted not only on 
the side, but from the crown to the nape of his neck, Gus 
was irreproachable. A tightly fitting frock coat made his 
lengthy form look longer than ever. His immense hands 
were covered with a pair of buff gloves, which he com- 
menced very deliberately to remove; first depositing his 
light overcoat — which he carried on his left arm, after the 
manner of the younger order of stock brokers — on the hat 
rack in the hall. Gus’ make-up had been the wonder and 
admiration of Davie all the way to the house. “ Nobby 
boy,” he whispered, as Mr. Cateret stepped into the hall a 
moment. 

Gus colored under Davies* ardent look, and flattering 
remark, but recovered in time to meet Miss Cateret who 
was just descending the stairs with her arm around Bessie’s 
waist. He brought his heels together with a click, and 
executed a profound bow. 

" Good-evening, Augustus, good-evening, Davie,” said 
Madeleine greeting the two brothers in the friendliest man- 
ner possible. After a few moments’ chat, she turned and 
said : 

"Papa, Mr. Dawes and Mr. Kenner are late, suppose we 
go down to dinner. Will you give your arm to Mrs. Mer- 
rill ?” which he did, inwardly growling that the two gen- 
tlemen should be treated so cavalierly, as he considered it. 
Madeleine intimated to Gus that he was to take Bessie, 
and putting her hand under Davie’s arm, she talked to 


20 6 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


him so graciously, and ignored so effectually the great dis- 
similarity in their mutual appearance, that Davie’s heart 
was won completely, and from this on he became her de- 
voted slave. 

Happening to look down at Bessie as they entered the 
dining-room, Gus noticed she wore a very pretty chain and 
locket. Bessie noticed the look, and lifting it said, “ Miss 
Cateret gave this to me just now. ,, Mr. Caterers back 
was turned, and Davie and Miss Cateret had not yet reached 
the bottom of the stairs, Gus seized the opportunity to 
unbend a little, and stooping he kissed Bessie’s blushing 
cheek. 

“ Why, Gussie,” whispered the indignant Bessie. 

“Augustus,” called Madeleine. 

“Yes, Miss Cateret,” he answered, halting suddenly, 
while Bessie felt as if the roof ought to fall and crush them. 

“Augustus, not a word about Mr. Kenner, until he ap- 
pears.” Gus nodded, with a cunning grin, and they all 
took their places at table. Soup had hardly been served, 
when the bell rang. 

“Mr. Kenner or Mr. Dawes,” ejaculated Mr. Cateret, 
dropping his spoon, and half rising; but a look from 
Madeleine settled him back into his seat again. Soon 
Millie brought in Mr. Dawes’ card, which she handed 
Madeleine. “ Mr. Dawes and Mr. Kenner,” said Made- 
leine, promptly. Again Mr. Cateret made a spasmodic 
effort to rise, and again a glance from Madeleine caused 
him to change his mind. 

“Perhaps you had better receive the gentlemen, my 
dear,” he said, feebly. Madeleine excused herself, and left 
the table. Mr. Cateret regained his composure. 

“Milly, that decanter of sherry. Gus, I drink to you 
fiancee! It gives me great pleasure to be able to present 
you to such distinguished members of the Exchange as 
Mr. Dawes and Mr. Kenner.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


207 


This was almost too much for Gus’ power of endurance; 
he grew frightfully red in the face, and Bessie looked at 
him beseechingly. 

Just then Madeleine entered the room with Mr. Dawes. 
Mr. Cateret instantly arose, and greeted his guest with a 
most urbane air. 

“ Most happy to have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Dawes 
at my own table; Mr. Dawes, my future partner, Mr. 
Duck,” — with a dignified wave of his hand toward Gus. 
“ Mrs. Merrill, Miss Merrill, Mr. David Duck;” Mr. Dawes 
bowed profoundly. Just then Mr. Cateret bethought him- 
self — “ but bless me, where is Mr. Kenner ? Excuse me, 
but I ■” 

This time he was arrested by a move of Mr. Dawes, who 
taking Madeleine’s hand, led her up to her father. 

“ My dear Mr. Cateret,” he said, in a grave tone, “ allow 
me to present ‘ Mr. Charles Kenner/ the most successful 
operator on ‘ Change.’ ” 

Mr. Cateret’s face grew red and his eyes seemed popping 
out of his head. 

“ Good ! good ! that’s good ! ” he exclaimed, “ but really 
we ought not to neglect,” — he paused, grew white, and 
grasped the back of his chair; something on the faces of 
those before him, told him this was no joke. Madeleine 
thought him about to faint, and sprang to his side. 

“Yes, papa, it is true,” she said, “what Mr. Dawes has 
told you, I am Charles Kenner” 

Mr. Cateret had lost the use of his legs; they trembled 
under him, and he slipped into his chair. Recovering 
himself a little, he smiled. 

“ Pray be seated, Mr. Dawes,” he said mildly, “ be seated 
Madeleine.” Mr. Cateret rarely used Madeleine’s full 
Christian name, but he seemed dazed, his forehead was 
covered with perspiration, and he raised his handkerchief 
to dry it. 


208 not to the swift. 

“ I knoyv it must be a great surprise to you, Mr. Cateret, 
to find that your daughter and Mr. Charles Kenner, the 
bold operator, are one and the same person,” remarked 
Mr. Dawes, “ but I take great pleasure in telling you that 
it is a fact, and that in your daughter, you have, without 
exception, not alone the most beautiful, but the most gifted 
young lady in New York.” 

The speech was a commonplace one, but it served its 
purpose, and enabled Mr. Cateret to recover his equanim- 
ity. The few moments before had been painful to all; his 
surprise was so complete, that it amounted to a shock ; but 
he soon recovered from the mortification he had felt, and 
looking around the table he fixed his eyes on Gus. 

“ Gus, you rascal, you were in this, too, you told me Mr. 
Kenner was a tall, handsome fellow with a black beard.” 

Gus looked confused, but Madeleine came to his aid. 

“ It’s all my fault, papa, I told Gus you must not know, 
and he must do the best he could to put you off the 
track.” 

“And he did completely. Well, well, my Maddy * Charles 
Kenner , — Say, Maddy, where did you learn it all ? ” 

“ Why, papa, you must think me stupid to listen to your 
talk for months, and not learn anything.” Mr. Cateret 
caught at this. 

“ To be sure, you always knew what I thought about the 
market, and you acted on my theories. Eh ? We get 
timid, Mr. Dawes, as we get older, but these young ones 
are daring. Ladies and gentlemen : I propose the health 
of ‘ Charles Kenner/ ” 

Amid great applause the toast was drank, and Mr. Cate- 
ret felt himself again. 

From this out, the dinner passed off gayly, Mr. Dawes 
dropped his taciturnity, and became absolutely jolly. Mr. 
Cateret was witty and confidential by turns. The Merrills 
and Davie were quiet, but enjoyed themselves thoroughly. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 20g 

And as for Gus, after a glass or two of wine, he entertained 
the whole table with his drolleries. 

After dinner Mr. Dawes was obliged to take his leave. 
The rest adjourned to the library, and Mr. Cateret, now 
fully recovered from his astonishment, really conceived 
that to him alone was due Madeleine’s success as a finan- 
cier. He told delightful fairy tales of operations on the 
“ Board,” brought out his finest cigars for Gus, teased 
Bessie until she turned scarlet, and was in every way the 
genial host, and accomplished gentleman. 

When the Merrills, Gus and Davie were finally driven 
home in Madeleine’s private carriage — she would not per- 
mit them to go in any other way — the hearts of all were 
full at their handsome reception; and for many a day it 
served as a topic for their evening conversation at Davie’s 
“ Roost.” 


14 


210 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE ORDER OF THE SOUTHERN CROSS. 

The door had hardly closed upon her retreating guests 
when Madeleine remarked : 

“ Papa, I think Fll go up-stairs.” 

Now, Papa Cateret wished to ask multitudes of ques- 
tions. He thought now the “cat was out of the bag,” he 
would learn all about Charles Kenner’s operations; he was 
never more mistaken in his life. 

“ Oh, don’t go to bed yet, Maddy, everything is so com- 
fortable here,” he begged. But Madeleine’s mind was 
flooded with thoughts, which she desired to arrange sys- 
tematically. 

“Not to-night, papa, I’m sleepy. Good-night,” and im- 
pressing a light kiss on either cheek, she hurried up-stairs, 
and Mr. Cateret sank gloomily into a chair, and chewed 
the end of his cigar in an absent-minded way, while wish- 
ing Madeleine a boy, who would be “ chummy.” 

Madeleine, divested of her dress, and enveloped in a 
warm wrapper, seated herself in a low chair, and thrust 
out her slippered feet toward the grate fire. ’Tis no intru- 
sion for us to investigate these musings of Madeleine; we 
know her characteristics, and betray no confidence. As 
she pulled out one hairpin after another, and allowed that 
luxuriant mass of hair to fall loosely over her shoulders, 
she looked too sweet and beautiful to suggest to the mind 
of the beholder, any other thought than admiration. The 
marks which time, thought, and character, impress upon 
human lineaments were almost wanting. One might have 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


21 1 


said the lines of her mouth were somewhat hard, but she 
was alone, and deep in thought. How few women bear 
critical inspection in their unguarded moments ! At that 
instant Madeleine was running over in her mind the inci- 
dents of Hugo’s confession of love in the conservatory. 
She saw his eager, handsome, pleading countenance; but 
the thought aroused no gleam of fancy; no flush of plea- 
sure mantled her cheek, as might have happened had her 
heart been tenderer. She smiled a little, but it was the 
smile of gratified pride. The same smile came when she 
thought of the dinner that evening, and her father’s aston- 
ishment to learn that his daughter was Charles Kenner. 
She settled back in her chair in complete satisfaction at 
the culmination of her efforts. The warm, soft wrapper, 
the cheerful fire, her successful “coup;” all these made 
her happy, but it was the happiness which comes from a 
selfish gratification. Her face changed again. She was 
thinking of Monsieur Laujac, and his entrance into the 
conservatory. 

“ How keenly he looked at us as he came in. He must 
have suspected something. What a strange and interest- 
ing man he is. His life must have been an eventful one. 
He’ll be a good man to help me with this plan of mine 
about the societ} r . I must talk with him about it, he is 
full of ideas.” Somehow the recollection of Monsieur 
Laujac had aroused all her mental activity; as a passing 
thought evokes a train of ideas which leads us entirely 
away from the exciting cause. All her idleness and in- 
activity engendered by the warm fire, and her comfortable 
position, disappeared. She sat clutching the arm of her 
chair with either hand, her body bent half forward, in 
what would have been, were she aware of it, a most uncom- 
fortable position. Her eyes w r ere fixed upon the glowing 
coals; her condition was a strange one. The bright glare, 
and her concentration of thought, had unconsciously half 


212 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


hypnotized her. Externals to her now did not exist, and 
her mind, freed from all the antagonism of material ex- 
istence, was busy formulating a plan, of which before she 
had only a vague idea. Madeleine’s design was to unite all 
the friends of the South in New York in an organization 
which would have for its object the furtherance of the 
Southern cause. Hitherto she could not fix upon any plan 
or scheme which seemed entirely satisfactory. Now it was 
all clear. She would form a society or order into which 
persons of both sexes should be admitted. These members 
should pledge themselves to furnish either financial, politi- 
cal, or physical aid to the South, in her efforts to obtain 
her independence. One could pledge one’s self to take 
either one or all three of the degrees. The first, financial, 
should be benevolent; the second, political, should be so- 
cial and practical; the third, physical, might be military. 
Only those of known trustworthiness and true fidelity were 
to be admitted as the possessors of a distinguishing badge, 
which carried with it certain obligations, and would be a 
voucher for the honesty and integrity of the wearer — who 
would be known as a brother or sister of the order. The 
slamming of a door below aroused her from this hypnotic 
state, and she sank back in her chair, her heart beating 
rapidly, and physically quite weak and limp. Her self- 
concentration had been so great that her intellect had 
seemed, for the time being, isolated from her body. While 
the animal functions went on with automatic precision, the 
spiritual essence had absented itself, while performing the 
creative act, and reunion was brought about by the sharp 
shock to the auditory nerves. It is hardly proper for the 
novelist to introduce into the thread of the story distract- 
ing ideas; but the thought occurs that the time may come 
when, better instructed in the adjustments which exist 
between physical and mental natures, we may at will dis- 
connect spirit from matter, either for the purpose of purely 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


213 


speculative study, or to rid ourselves, for the time being, 
of the inherited or acquired ills which all flesh is heir to. 
The limitless possibilities of the human mind, when trained 
to free itself from gross materialism, becomes daily a more 
and more absorbing topic for the speculative intellect. 

When Madeleine finally finished her plans the night 
was far advanced. The fire was burning low, and she 
shivered as she slowly undressed and sought her bed. Her 
mind was in a sad turmoil with all the grand ideas she had 
evoked, and sleep did not readily come to greet her. The 
result was that she was late at breakfast. But a cold bath, 
and a brisk rub, had removed every trace of mental fatigue, 
when she did appear. Hardly had she sipped the last drop 
of Aunt Sally’s delicious coffee, when Monsieur Laujac’s 
card was brought in. 

“ How fortunate,” she thought, "just the man of all 
men I most wished to see. Show him into the library, 
Millie, and ask him if he will have a cup of coffee. Tell 
him I will be with him in ten minutes;” and Madeleine 
hastened up-stairs to dress. In less than the specified time, 
she entered the library and found Monsieur Laujac waiting. 
He was engaged in writing a note. 

“ Pardon the liberty I have taken, but I was reminded 
of a letter I desired to write upon seeing the desk and 
paper. Miss Cateret.” 

“ Do not apologize. Monsieur Laujac, please go on and 
finish your letter, I have a few directions to give my cook, 
meanwhile you will have finished writing, and we can have 
a chat.” 

Thus encouraged. Monsieur Laujac added a few lines to 
a closely-written letter, placed it in an envelope, and ad- 
dressed it to General Peter Johannes Beckx, S.J., Rome, 
Italy, blotted it, and placed it in an inside pocket just as 
Madeleine returned. The facts of the case were, that 
noticing Madeleine’s portfolio, he had thoroughly rum- 


214 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


maged through it, and found a letter from Secretary Floyd, 
intimating that Mr. Lincoln’s election was a foregone con- 
clusion, and telling her that in the event of it taking place 
the Cabinet would be dissolved. This certainly was worth 
reporting at Rome, and partially atoned for his mistake of 
the night before. Later in his career the fact of his writ- 
ing this letter very nearly unhorsed him from the steed he 
was riding. 

Madeleine designed subjecting the Frenchman to a little 
catechizing. She wished to learn the extent of his in- 
terest in the South, before admitting him to her scheme. 
She little knew with whom she had to deal. In such mat- 
ters she was a baby compared to Monsieur Laujac, w r ho 
quickly arrived at her intentions, and fell in with her 
views until he learned their purport. 

“You must find America a terribly prosaic place after 
la belle France, monsieur. Do you remain here long ?” 

“ Ah, mademoiselle, with true American impetuosity you 
have launched two questions at me in one breath/’ replied 
the Jesuit, smilingly. 

“America is certainly not France, nor is New York 
Paris, but New York, which is all I have seen of America, 
is far from prosaic. Your gentlemen are, perhaps, a little 
brusque, too much pre-occupied with business, but for all 
that, interesting. What they lack in culture and art they 
make up in energy and enterprise. You are settling some 
questions here. You attack problems in a day over which 
we delay for years. Just now, for instance, you are strug- 
gling with a tremendous question — the rights of States, 
and the power of the General Government to compel 
obedience to its mandates. The North, while interested 
in this question, seems hardly to feel it so vital a point as 
the South. This may eventuate in a struggle between the 
two sections of the country.” Monsieur Laujac paused a 
moment, and Madeleine gently leaned forward and said: 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 21 5 

“And where will Monsieur Laujac be found; on which 
side of the struggle ? 99 

“ Oh ! as for me, Miss Cateret, I am an alien, I must be 
neutral,” he replied, laughingly. 

“A neutral,” repeated Madeleine with an accent of 
scorn, which would have brought the blood to the cheeks 
of the tamest of mankind. Monsieur Laujac simply smiled. 
No current of blood came with quickened force to tinge 
Ms cheeks at this scornful tone of the beautiful woman 
who confronted him. 

“ Have you no opinion then, no enthusiasm, no chivalry ? 
I have heard of foreigners who took service in the French 
army to maintain what they considered the rights of man. 
Does not your blood boil at the outrages inflicted upon the 
South ? ” Madeleine stood before him clutching the paper 
containing the draft of the organization she wished to con- 
sult him about. “ It seems to me, Monsieur Laujac,” she 
continued, “that Dr. Maginn must have been woefully 
mistaken in your character when he introduced you into 
this house.” This was said rather insolently than resent- 
fully. 

“ My dear Miss Cateret,” replied Monsieur Laujac calmly, 
“ it was because good Dr. Maginn knew me thoroughly that 
he did me the honor to bring me here; may I beg of you 
to be seated and listen to me a moment ? ” 

A little self-consciousness that perhaps she had been too 
hasty, caused Madeleine to resume her seat. Madeleine's 
remark upon meeting him that morning, and her return 
to the room with the roll of paper in her hand, showed 
him plainly that she wished to consult him about some 
important matter. He did not wish to thwart this confi- 
dential disclosure. Assuming a very grave and serious 
manner, he interlaced his fingers, and resting them in his 
lap leaned slightly toward her. 

“ Miss Cateret,” he said, “ I wonder whether you have 


21 6 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


the curiosity to know my sole purpose in visiting America. 
It is hardly a time for a traveller to make a tour of the 
country. I have given it out that I am an agent of an 
arms manufactory. I know, perhaps, as little about these 
matters as you do.” Madeleine became instantly inter- 
ested. Here was a secret, and what woman can refuse to 
listen to a secret ? 

" The truth is, I do take a great interest in the struggle 
which is now precipitating itself upon this country. I 
represent, unofficially, no less a person than the Emperor 
himself, who favors the South. Openly he can do nothing, 
other nations are watching his attitude ; hut he, or perhaps 
I should say the Empress, is on the side of the South. My 
mission is a secret one, I cannot openly declare for one 
side or the other, that would jeopardize my chance of ob- 
taining information. Now you understand my position, I 
trust you will respect my secret; even Dr. Maginn does 
not know it.” 

"Indeed I will! indeed I will!” exclaimed Madeleine, 
" and let me say I am ashamed of my suspicions,” and she 
put her hand in the soft palm of the Jesuits which was 
put forward to receive it. 

"And now I will tell you my secret,” said Madeleine, 

gayly. 

"It has occurred to me that some organization ought to 
be adopted by those of us who live in the North whereby 
we may render efficient service to the South. An organiza- 
tion which shall bind us together to work in common ; and 
I have made an imperfect draft of such an order.” 

All this suited Laujac’s Jesuitical turn of mind. 

" What is the order to be called, Miss Cateret ? Give it 
an attractive name. Patriotism is fine in itself, hut you 
must make it interesting as well as honorable.” 

" Then you do not fully believe in the earnestness of the 
Southern patriots?” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


21 / 


“ Oh, I do not doubt the enthusiasm of you Southerners, 
but a gilded pill is better than a plain bitter one, other 
things being equal.” 

“ How would the f Star of the South ’ do for a name ? ” 
inquired Madeleine, with a little feeling of trepidation. 

“ Very good, and very suggestive, but if I recollect aright, 
I have heard that there was once an order called the * Lone 
Star* prevalent in this country or Cuba, some years ago.” 

Madeleine was astonished at his knowledge. 

“ I have thought of one which I offer for your considera- 
tion. How would the ‘ Order of the Southern Cross ’ do ? ” 

“ Capital! capital!” exclaimed Madeleine, “ I knew you 
could help me! That will be symbolical and political.” 
Then looking at him quickly, she said, “ has it any other 
signification, monsieur ? ” 

“ None that I can think of, unless it be faith in the 
cause,” he replied. 

Madeleine had fancied he meant more than he said, but 
allowed it to pass. 

Then they looked over the draft. Monsieur Laujac 
made some alterations here and there, which his greater 
experience suggested, but practically he left it intact, won- 
dering all the while at the genius the girl had displayed 
in its conception. 

Madeleine, full of her new project, told him she intended 
having a meeting called immediately, and made him agree 
that he would be present, which he promised before he 
left the house, although at first reluctant to make himself 
so prominent. Madeleine’s invitations went out that day; 
and as the ball to the Prince of Wales was to occur, she 
made her arrangements to have her friends all present on 
the next evening. All Madeleine’s trusty lieutenants were 
ordered out to work for the cause, and when the next 
evening came her parlors were well filled with the faithful. 
Dr. Maginn, who had just returned from Watervliet, 


2l8 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


where, at the suggestion of Ilowell Cobb, he had purchased 
several thousand stand of arms for the South, was present, 
and Madeleine pressed him into service to explain the de- 
sign of the order, and then she brought out the roll for 
them to sign. It was. arranged so that members might 
sign under the form they elected to favor with their sup- 
port. When it came Madeleine’s turn to sign she wrote 
her name under each of the three grades, " financial, politi- 
cal, and physical,” assuming the obligation to furnish 
monetary, political, or even military aid to the Order. Dr. 
Maginn noticing this, slyly remarked to her that he had 
just purchased fifty thousand stand of arms, and he could 
loan her a musket. 

“ Do not laugh, my dear doctor, I may yet carry some 
form of weapon in aid of the South,” said Madeleine earn- 
estly, “ more timid women than I may yet fire a gun in the 
cause of freedom. Don’t make fun of our Order, for we 
shall make you Chief.” And so it was, for when it came 
to balloting for officers, Dr. Maginn was chosen Chief and 
Madeleine, Secretary. 

The amiable doctor, in a witty little speech, accepted 
the office. Although his speech was witty it was not want- 
ing in earnestness, and toward the close he seemed fully 
to appreciate the magnitude of the undertaking, and the 
same expression I have before mentioned came over his 
countenance, as he deplored the necessity of their organiza- 
tion. He bade them all to he of good cheer. "It was 
God’s work they were doing,” and he only hoped they 
might find a Joshua to lead them to victory. 

Then Madeleine pinned a little badge — of white silver 
thread, on black cloth — upon the left breast of every mem- 
ber, and an adjournment was taken until notified by the 
Secretary of a future meeting. 

Thus originated an order which did much toward afford- 
ing aid and comfort to the South during the long war 
which was to follow. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


219 


CHAPTEK XXIII. 

THE BALL. 

A traveller sauntering forth from his hotel in New 
York on a certain morning in October, 1860, would have 
been struck by the look on the faces of the passers-by. 
This look seemed one of exhilaration; gratified pride would 
produce about the same facial expression. All walked with 
a jaunty air, and seemed inwardly chuckling — not at any- 
thing arising in the line of vision, for in whichever direc- 
tion this observant traveller had chanced to extend his 
stroll, he would have noticed the same pleasant, self-satis- 
fied, almost grinning countenances. lie would have felt 
that had any occasion for addressing any of these people 
arisen, the reply would have been pleasantly given. Upon 
unfolding his paper the secret would have been out, for 
he would have seen this heading, “The Prince is Here,” 
and when the waiter came to take his order he would have 
prefaced his request with the remark, “ The Prince is here, 
sir.” Yes, the Prince of Wales was in New York; and 
the satisfaction of the good people at this fact was some- 
thing incomprehensible. Here, where he should have been 
a ruler, he now comes as an honored visitor, and New York 
seemed determined to efface from the princely mind any 
misgivings he might have had as to his reception. What 
hopes, what fears, what longings, disturbed the minds of 
maids and matrons, as they read the announcement! A 
genuine prince was something few had ever seen. Foreign 
travel was a rare thing in those days, and there were none 
to describe a prince. How did the envied mortal look? 


220 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Children referred to their fairy tales, and thought of 
Cinderella and her prince. Older people wondered and 
thought; does he eat, sleep, and drink like an ordinary 
young man ? Was the clay of which he was made of a 
finer grade than that of which they were constructed ? 
Was his mien more noble, his eye more piercing, his intel- 
lect more subtle ? It must be confessed in those days 
Americans were quite innocent of the knowledge of how 
royalty looked. Time and travel have changed all that, 
and this same Prince is much less interesting at forty-eight, 
than he was at eighteen. 

New York on this day had but one thought, to see the 
Prince, and do him honor. There was a ball to be given 
in the Academy, and the fairest maidens and bravest men 
will be there. Heart burnings there will be, for all cannot 
bask in the sunshine of his glances, but all will be there 
to greet him. The Academy has been decorated with lav- 
ish expenditure, the stars and stripes are entwined with 
the union jack; all animosity has been put aside, and a 
glowing welcome awaits the Prince. Carriage after car- 
riage deposits its load of guests at the door; and thickly 
clustered around the “hoi polloi” enjoy the unusual sight; 
and the language of the street, witty, spontaneous, and in- 
describable in its humorous sarcasm, flies back and forth, 
at each new arrival. 

Inside, the large floor, is gradually filling up. At one 
end of the Academy several chair and lounges were placed, 
and here the Prince was to take his stand. A sudden stir 
in the great throng, a craning forward of necks, a noisy 
hum of expectation, and there the Prince stood; a large- 
eyed, pleasant-faced, long-haired, gentle-looking youth. 

Beside him stands the Duke of Newcastle, next to him 
the Earl of St. German, and others of his suite grouped 
around. “ Hail to the Chief” and “ God save the Queen,” 
crashed upon the ear; and then the Prince opened the ball 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


221 


by leading out Mrs. Governor Morgan for the first qua- 
drille. Then came a wild scramble for places; all wanted 
to be as near as possible to the first set. The wealthy 
butcher from Fulton Market, who had obtained a ticket 
through “ inflooence,” paraded his beefy spouse with him, 
alongside of Mrs. Schuyler Livingston; and Madam de la 
Mode, nee O’Brien, elbowed the aristocratic Fernando 
Wood, New York’s Mayor. It was, indeed, a democratic 
assembly; but all were good natured, for had they not a 
Prince for a guest ? 

To tell their children and grandchildren how they had 
danced at the Prince’s ball, and almost trod upon his 
princely toes, was a thing none wished to miss. The first 
quadrille over, a few introductions took place, and curiosity 
having been satisfied, all began to enjoy themselves; when 
crash! down came a heavy vase almost upon the head of 
the Prince. Hugo, who happened, with his sister, to have 
been forced near his Highness, noticed it toppling, and 
sprang forward in time to save the royal toes from being 
jammed. The Prince politely bowed his thanks, and the 
ball went on. A few moments later Major Teesdale came 
up to Hugo, and introducing himself, conveyed to him his 
Highness’ thanks. An introduction to Doris was a matter 
of course, and the gallant Major begged for her hand for 
the next dance. This left Hugo at liberty to seek Made- 
leine, for despite the pronounced rebuff he had experienced 
at the Richmonds, he had not yet relinquished all hope of 
winning her hand. 

Too strongly had this siren woven her fetters around his 
heart for him to readily shake himself free. Consciously, 
or unconsciously, Madeleine must have recognized this, for 
when he did see her he found her eyes fixed on him. What 
a vision of ravishing beauty she appeared! Queenly in 
her height and carriage, she, of all the ladies present, 
might easily have been presumed of noble birth. Her 


222 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


dress of gossamer-like, white illusion, over an underskirt 
of white silk, the whole ornamented with flowers, was 
vastly becoming to her grand style of beauty. Her masses 
of black hair, contrary to the prevailing fashion, were 
brushed back from her forehead and temples, forming a 
frame-work for her exquisitely modelled face. Around 
her neck she wore her mother’s string of pearls, and on 
her left breast was pinned a small ebony cross, set with 
pearls, presented her that morning by Monsieur Laujac. 
Madeleine would have refused any ordinary gift, but this 
one, emblematical of the “ Order,” she chose to accept. 

When Hugo saw her she was standing with her father. 
As her eye met his, his face flushed with pleasure. Just 
a little hesitation there was on his part, and then over- 
board went his pride, and he approached slowly through 
the crowd toward those brilliant eyes, which drew him 
ever on. How sweet the smile, and how gracious the air 
with which she recognized him! Was there yet hope for 
him ? How we men fool ourselves, when looking into the 
eyes of a beautiful woman! How easily they divine our 
thoughts, and how obtuse they seem ! Eve may have lost 
Paradise, but in that one act she gained control of the 
kingdom of man, and the wiliest serpent of them all will 
never succeed in ousting her from that dominion. One 
could almost swear the sacrifice a designed one; and 
through all these ages woman has been laughing in her 
sleeve at the misplaced sympathy bestowed upon her. 

As Hugo came up the next dance was just on, and Mr. 
Cateret readily relinquished his daughter, at Hugo’s request 
for her hand. With the exercise of a little adroitness, Hugo 
managed to land himself and his partner in the same set 
with his sister and Major Teesdale, who seemed to have 
established very friendly relations with Doris, for she was 
laughing merrily at some droll story of his, when Hugo 
and Madeleijie came up. The gallant major was presented 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


223 


to Madeleine, and during the few moments before the 
dance commenced, he hardly took his eyes from her face. 
In the next set above them was the Prince with Miss Liv- 
ingston for a partner, and as the evolutions of the quadrille 
often brought him almost vis-a-vis with Madeleine, his eye 
sought hers in undisguised admiration. Nothing loth to 
encourage a Prince, when she would have ignored a similar 
scrutiny from almost any one else, Madeleine replied in 
kind, and was not surprised when Major Teesdale, who had 
left them a moment after the dance was over, returned and 
asked if he should not present them to his Koyal High- 
ness, who wished to thank Mr. Bernhard personally for 
his prompt assistance in the early part of the evening. 
Madeleine alone saw through the polite ruse on the part 
of the Major; and all assented readily at the proposed dis- 
tinction. Thoroughly versed in all such matters, the Major 
made the presentation in the simplest manner, and the 
Prince greeted them most affably, and thanking Hugo for 
his quickly rendered service, fell instantly into conversa- 
tion with Madeleine. 

“ Your name would suggest that you were not an Ameri- 
can, Miss Cateret ? ” he remarked interrogatively. 

"Yes, indeed, I am, your Highness,” answered Made- 
leine quickly. "I was born in the South, although of 
French parentage, but,” — interrupting herself — “ your 
Highness did not come to America to see foreigners ? ” 

“ Most assuredly not, Miss Cateret, on the contrary, I find 
American women too charming to wish to meet any other,” 
and he bowed slightly. 

Madeleine’s response was an instantaneous ripple of 
laughter. The Prince was too young for her to feel it a 
breach of etiquette to give way to her merriment. 

"You do not doubt my word, Miss Cateret ?” continued 
the Prince with an injured air. 

Qh, no, most assuredly not,” answered Madeleine mock- 


224 


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ingly. “A king can do no wrong, and a Prince can tell no 
stories.” 

“ He can, but he won’t in this instance. Miss Cateret; he 
adheres to his original statement.” 

“A delightful prerogative, that exercised by royalty, your 
Highness; for a moment, I am tempted to envy you your 
privileges,” retorted Madeleine. 

“ That Miss Cateret can envy me anything, is a source 
of profound regret,” replied the young Prince very politely. 
A light blush suffused Madeleine’s countenance, heighten- 
ing the beauty of the face into which the Prince was gaz- 
ing. Before Madeleine could reply the Major, Commodore 
Yanderfelt, Mr. Richmond, and Grace joined the circle 
surrounding the Prince and further discourse was pro- 
hibited. 

What Madeleine had said was not particularly witty, 
nor had the Prince’s responses been more than common- 
place, but they were two young people, and the eyes of 
both had been fully occupied, his in admiring, hers in at- 
tracting attention. Although another partner had been 
provided for his Royal Highness, the Prince determined 
to dance with Madeleine. 

“ Teesdale, you must make it appear that there has been 
a mistake, and put the lady off one dance; this time I lead 
Miss Cateret out,” said the Prince, sotto voce. A few mo- 
ments before this aside of the Prince, Commodore Vander- 
felt, thumb in arm-hole of his vest — which was cut very 
low exposing his ample ruffled shirt front — his nose in the 
air, and his elbows in everybody’s ribs, accosted Mr. Rich- 
mond. 

“ I say, Richmond, isn’t that Cateret’s girl talking with 
the Prince just now ?” and the Commodore indicated with 
a jerk of his thumb the direction. 

“ It certainly is, Commodore, didn’t you recognize her ?” 

“ Thought so,” muttered the "Prince of the money 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


22 $ 

world,” without directly replying. “ Let's go over there,” 
and disregarding all forms of etiquette, he hurried Mr. 
Richmond and Grace toward where the Prince, Madeleine, 
the Duke of Newcastle and Lord Lyons were standing. 

“ Good-evening, Miss Cateret,” called out, rather than 
spoke, the great “ Money King,” just as the Prince, hav- 
ing obtained the promise of Madeleine's hand for the next 
dance, turned to reply to some remark of the Duke. 

“Good-evening, Commodore, good-evening, Mr. Rich- 
mond, Grace,” responded Madeleine, turning her peerless 
figure toward his Money Highness, and her friends. 

“Is he nice, Madeleine?” whispered Grace leaning 
toward her. 

“Very,” smiled Madeleine. 

“ Of course, you little humbug, isn't he a Prince,” grunted 
the Commodore under his breath. 

“0 Madeleine, do contrive an introduction for me,” 
urged Grace, pathetically. 

Madeleine promised to arrange it through Major Tees- 
dale. 

“Has the youngster got any brains, Miss Cateret?” 
asked the Commodore superciliously. 

“My dear Commodore, I am not an anatomist; he cer- 
tainly is very agreeable, and evidently has a good common- 
school education. He is at least polite ! ” This was said 
rather maliciously. 

“ Tut ! tut ! Miss Cateret, his mother looked out for that. 
But has he any ability, does he amount to anything ? You 
do; does he ?” 

“Commodore,” replied Madeleine, determined not to 
lose her temper, “ why don't you cross-question him ? ” 

“ Tried to,” jerked out the Commodore, “ but he wouldn't 
talk.” This was too much for Madeleine’s self-control. 
She laughed heartily, and leaning forward put her hand 
on the Commodore's wrist. 

15 


226 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


" Next time don’t patronize him too much,” she whis- 
pered. The old man’s face grew red, and for a moment he 
looked confused, but ended by laughing himself. 

" Guess you are about right, you little witch ; he’s nothing 
but a boy anyhow,” and with this salve to his self-esteem, 
he turned away, as Major Teesdale came up to conduct 
Madeleine to the side of the Prince. 

“A striking-looking old gentleman,” remarked the Major, 
alluding to Commodore Yanderfelt, "he reminds me of 
one of our better class of country squires at home; a little 
testy, is he not ? ” 

"A little, perhaps, when crossed,” replied Madeleine, in 
answer to the latter part of the query. "Why do you 
think so ? ” The Major looked rather quizzically at Made- 
leine. 

"Well, Major Teesdale, go on, the Commodore is no 
friend of mine,” she said. 

" Then I may say that the Prince was obliged to snub 
him a little; the old gentleman attempted to patronize 
him, and made a dismal failure. I suppose he is very 
rich ? ” 

" Vulgarly so,” laughed Madeleine. Just then the Prince 
stepped forward to claim his partner. This dance with 
the Prince attracted an unusual amount of attention; 
Madeleine’s striking beauty and the Prince’s very deferen- 
tial air toward her, evoked an endless amount of comment. 

"Who is she? What style! Did you ever see a more 
beautiful girl ? ” These remarks were heard on all sides. 
As for Madeleine, conscious that she was observed by all, 
her dancing and deportment were grace itself. As for the 
Prince, his gaze was riveted on her face, and he went 
through the form of dancing in a perfunctory sort of a way. 
In one of the figures his arm inadvertently brushed against 
the pin which Monsieur Laujac had given her; it became 
unfastened, and fell to the floor, where it was instantly 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


227 


crushed by the foot of the Prince. With an exclamation 
of dismay, he stopped and picked it up, only to find it ir- 
retrievably ruined. The cross was broken, and most of 
the pearls crushed out of shape. 

“ What an awkward fellow I am, Miss Cateret,” he ex- 
claimed in dismay. “ Was this an emblem ? ” for he no- 
ticed the words, “ Libert e, Egalite, Fraternite, 0. of S. C.,” 
on the back. For a moment, Madeleine had turned pale 
when she saw the damage done; it appeared symbolical of 
the fate of the Confederation, but recovering herself, she 
begged the Prince, “not to mind it, it could be repaired.” 

“ I charge myself with that duty. Miss Cateret,” he re- 
plied, “ but did you notice this has thirteen pearls— an un- 
lucky number — and these words, this jargon of the French 
revolution ? it has all a meaning,” and he looked in Made- 
leine's face, and met there such an intense expression, that 
even Royalty was for a moment abashed. 

“ I told your Highness I was a Southern girl, did you 
ever hear of the Southern Cross ? Do you know we mean 
to be free ? Do you know that a revolution is imminent ? 
Is England with us ? ” As Madeleine spoke these words, 
or rather whispered them, her cheeks were flushed, and 
she looked like an inspired Pythoness. What the Prince 
would have said we cannot say, for the dance being ended, 
the watchful Newcastle took the Prince away, and Hugo 
pounced upon Madeleine for his promised dance. And 
then the ball went on. One thing puzzled Madeleine; as 
she whispered to the Prince, she caught the eye of Mon- 
sieur Laujac, who, a few steps away, was intently gazing 
at her. A solemn sneer, which she had never seen upon 
his countenance before, rested there. Did he notice the 
mishap of the cross ? 


228 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

DORIS IN TIIE ROLE OF AN EDUCATOR OF YOUTH. 

The Richmond family had become, in the course of 
time, much attached to Doris Bernhard. At first it was 
Grace, but later the whole family became devoted to her. 
Hugo was looking up a place for a studio, and at the urgent 
request of Mrs. Richmond and Grace, Doris consented to 
spend a few weeks with them. Mrs. Richmond, of whom 
little has been said, was a woman of great force of charac- 
ter, entirely worldly, always alert and seeking for an op- 
portunity to advance the Richmond interests. Mrs. Rich- 
mond was a large woman, a pugnacious woman, and a little 
overbearing in manner. She was honest in her purpose, 
but she meant things to go her way; resolute and uncom- 
promising in her character, she resented as outrageous and 
impertinent all opinions which differed from hers. It was 
easy to provoke argument with her, but hard to withdraw 
from it; with her it was constant attack ; defend yourself 
if you were able. Such a character as this, always in per- 
fect health, was a power, and no move was made in the 
Richmond household which she did not pronounce satis- 
factory. While Grace was her father’s favorite, Harry, 
the big, handsome son, was his mother’s darling. In size, 
impetuosity, and energy, he resembled his mother. One 
of Mrs. Richmond’s hobbies was, the proper mating of the 
human race to produce perfect children ; large, strong and 
robust herself, she disliked delicate or puny people, and it 
was a source of great disappointment to her that Grace was 
so slight. “ She may be fairly healthy, my dear,” she said 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


229 


to one of her intimates, " but she is not a Richmond.” 
Look at her father! Look at her brother! Look at her 
uncles.” This disparagement of Grace, however, was by 
no means merited. Although she was slight and nervous, 
she was not delicate, and promised, later in life, to rival 
her mother in size, as she certainly would in energy. When 
Doris entered the household, Mrs. Richmond succumbed 
immediately. Here was a girl after her own heart, larger 
even than she was herself, if not as stout. With magnifi- 
cent shoulders and bust, a large white neck, pink and white 
cheeks, a veritable Juno in carriage, and having a frank, 
fearless way which defied deceit. Mrs. Richmond immedi- 
ately set her wishing cap agoing, and her wish was, that 
Harry should fall in love with this amiable Amazon. For 
some time past Mrs. Richmond had discovered that Harry 
was inclined to be a little wild. He was irregular at his 
meals, came home all hours of the night and morning, 
kept whiskey in his room, and made a “ pig-pen,” — as she 
expressed it — of it, with his pipes, cigars and ashes. " What 
he needed was a wife to keep him straight; all men needed 
one, and just now he most of all.” 

" What a pair they’d make, Grace,” she said one morn- 
ing, when alone with her daughter. " What a great thing 
it would be if they would fall in love with each other!” 

" Good for him, perhaps, but not for her.” 

"Why, Grace Richmond!” ejaculated her mother with 
explosive force, " what do you mean ? Any girl might be 
proud if your brother preferred her.” 

Grace shook her head. "You may think that true, 
mother, but I do not. Doris is a very lovely girl, and I 
think Harry could have a great many improvements made 
on him before he could become a good match for such a 
noble girl.” 

" Grace ! ” said her mother emphatically, " I will not 
have you speak so about your brother, boys are not like 


230 


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girls; would you have him sit in the house all day mend- 
ing his own stockings, or reading some goody goody book, 
and know nothing about life in the world ? How is he 
ever to learn what life is, learn to protect his wife when 
he gets her, if he dawdles away his time at home ? What 
would you make of him ? an emasculated dandy, a girl- 
man, who simpers and blushes and is afraid of a mouse ? 
You may like such a man as that, but I don’t. 

“ Harry is a big, healthy, good-natured animal, just now, 
I admit, but he has the making of a fine man, he only 
needs a little directing by a woman he loves and who loves 
him,” and Mrs. Richmond stood over Grace as if she would 
annihilate her; but Grace folded her hands in her lap and 
viewed her mother calmly. 

“ So you would like to have him marry Doris that she 
might educate him ? Poor Doris ! What a mission for 
her,” and Grace shrugged her pretty shoulders. 

“ Grace Richmond ! ” and Mrs. Richmond’s ponderous 
form swelled up in righteous indignation. “You have 
not one bit of love for your only brother. He is worth 
two of you, but don’t you dare interfere ! That girl may 
be an angel, but she is none too good for Harry, and she 
shall marry him or my name is not Susan Richmond ! ” 
And Mrs. Richmond, mater, strode out of the room with 
her chin high in the air, and banged the door after her. 

“ Harry is a good, dear boy,” muttered Grace, after her 
mother left the room, “but he is too wild, and mother 
leads him to think too well of himself; he needs a little 
taking down, and I believe Doris can do it.” 

And what of Doris ? Was she to lend, herself to 'the 
“ taking down ” process ? Ever since her advent into the 
household Harry Richmond had manifested a decided lik- 
ing for her. Mrs. Richmond had stated the case frankly, 
when she said Harry was at the present time a “good- 
natured animal; ” horse-races ? “ chicken disputes,” boxing. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


231 


wrestling, etc., were all in his line. He often saw the sun 
rise and heard the rattle of the milk wagons, but unfor- 
tunately, he was on the wrong side of the house when this 
happened. Since Doris became an occupant of the house 
things were changed. Harry suddenly found business en- 
grossing, and remained home nights to talk over the mar- 
kets with the “ governor ” after dinner. Quite frequently, 
he had taken Grace and Doris to some concert, or art ex- 
hibition, and showed none of the indifference or absolute 
scorn noticeable on former occasions, when Grace pressed 
him into service as an escort. Doris had found her new 
home very pleasant. Grace’s sisterly affection was very 
grateful to her, and Mrs. Kichmond was kindness itself. 
As for Harry, he had become thoroughly devoted, and it 
was “ Harry” and “ Doris,” as though they had known 
each other for years. Grace with her winsome ways, 
wormed her way into Doris’ heart, and who could resist 
her ! A victim of moods, one moment in tears, and then 
brimming over with mirth and frolicsomeness. While dis- 
posed to criticise this unevenness of temperament, one 
could only say, “ how generous she is ! What a bewitching 
creature ! ” in fact, she wore her “ heart upon her sleeve.” 
Whoever was base enough to injure her, could easily study 
the effect of their cruelty. A look of reproach, a slight 
neglect on the part of a friend, and then you saw that 
restless, palpitating heart shrinking or expanding as you 
willed it. 

But to return to Doris. Early evidence of Harry’s in- 
terest manifested itself so plainly that she could not but 
recognize it, and although she was attracted by his warm, 
manly nature* and recognized many good, sterling traits 
in his character, she had not lost her heart, for she was 
resolute and self-contained; there was nothing impulsive 
about her. 

f( What is it makes me so naughty ? ” Grace inquired one 


232 


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evening of Doris, apropos to some explosion which had 
taken place. 

" Internal cussedness,” suggested Harry nonchalantly. 

"I’ll tell you, Grace dear,” replied Doris, "you have 
never been accustomed to restrain yourself. Don’t fly into 
a passion at everything which annoys you.” 

" That’s very easy for you to say, Doris, who do not know 
what passion means” — Doris flushed a little — "but I’m 
no iceberg, why, I’d turn all gall, if I couldn’t explode on 
people. Oh, dear ! I s’pose I’se born so.” 

Doris seemed to be gradually supplanting Madeleine in 
Grace’s affection, for on several occasions lately the latter 
had treated Grace in such a condescending way that the 
young lady was considerably exasperated. 

" I have always loved and admired Madeleine,” she said 
to Doris, " but I cannot endure her patronizing ways of 
late. She smiles a sort of f de liaut en has ’ smile, that 
makes me feel wicked.” 

" I believe Miss Cateret is a selfish, ambitious girl, Grace. 
I think she is proud and cold-hearted. She certainly has 
a wonderful power over people,” said Doris in reply. " She 
seems to look over our heads.” 

"A difficult thing for her to do in your case, Doris, dear,” 
laughed Grace. 

"You know what I mean, Grace, I have never talked 
with her much, but she seems continually on exhibition, 
like a ' salon picture.’ ” 

" That may be, in a way,” said Grace, thoughtfully, " but 
I must say she has always been kind to me.” 

" You never opposed her will, Grace. Trust me, scratch 
her smooth skin, and you would find the Tartar under- 
neath, only it is well veneered.” 

"All prejudice, my dear Doris; I would be willing to 
make a wager, that if she spent the evening with you, you 
would be her devoted admirer as I am.” Doris shook her 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


233 


head; the fact was, she was dissatisfied with Madeleine’s 
influence over Hugo; she thought her amusing herself 
with him, and of all the people in the world, her brother 
was to her the dearest. She knew Hugo was infatuated, 
and nothing she had seen on Madeleine’s part indicated 
anything more than friendly interest. She had also seen 
that she played with him, she had noticed this in the con- 
servatory at the exhibition of his pictures, and it made her 
hitter against Madeleine. In Doris’ mind Hugo was to 
become a great artist, and she would keep house for him 
and make him comfortable. 

But there were other things in store for both Hugo and 
Doris. The whole Richmond family were very much in love 
with Doris, and all, except Grace, had decided that she must 
marry Harry. Even Grace would have liked this, but 
Harry was wild, and she doubted if Doris could be brought 
to see that she was the one who ought to take him in hand 
and tame him. 

In solemn family conclave it was decided that Harry 
ought to marry, and Doris was the victim chosen for the 
sacrifice. There was no thought of the girl and her 
wishes. Pure, lovely and good, as she was, a noble woman, 
with a sterling character, there was no question as to what 
her fate might be. The only consideration was, “ is she the 
woman to lead him back into straight paths ?” The decree 
was, "no better could be found.” From that moment, the 
praises of Harry were sung in all keys in Doris’ patient 
ears. Harry, himself, although not taken into the council, 
seemed to feel that every one was favorable, and laid vio- 
lent siege to Doris’ heart. But the Connecticut maiden 
had a mind of her own, as master Harry found out to his 
sorrow, when after dancing attendance upon Doris and 
Grace for weeks, he finally summoned up courage, one 
evening, when the family were all away except Doris and 
Grace — who, willing to give Harry a chance, remained on 


234 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


some trivial pretext in her room — to ask Doris to be his 
wife. 

The big, handsome fellow, who would have found him- 
self entirely at home bandying jokes behind the scenes 
with the ballet girls, or at a petit souper , with one of the 
gilded Aspasias of the day, was utterly lost when he tried 
to tell Doris how passionately he adored her, and how nec- 
essary she was to his happiness. 

They had been looking over some etchings of Hugo’s 
which he had left that afternoon for Grace, when Harry 
said: 

" Doris, do you know that I think Grace is awfully in 
love with your brother Hugo ? ” 

" Why, what makes you think so, Harry ? ” exclaimed 
Doris, dropping the etchings in her surprise. 

" Oh, it’s plain enough,” he replied nonchalantly, stoop- 
ing to pick up the scattered prints, " I have seen it for 
some time.” 

" I hope not,” said Doris, absently. 

" Hope not, why, what do you mean, Doris ? ” 

"Well, I will tell you, Harry; Hugo is, I am afraid, very 
much in love with Miss Cateret, and it would be a terrible 
thing if Grade fell in love with him.” 

" It is too late now, the deed is done, I am sure. Grace 
is sly, but I have watched her and I am sure I am right. 
It will be awfully hard on her, and she’s such a nice little 
thing.” 

"After all you may be wrong, Harry. I do hope nothing 
will come of this infatuation for Miss Cateret. I always 
intended to keep house for him, and I expect he will be a 
great artist some day.” This she said merrily, her hands 
clasped around her knee and her eyes fixed vacantly on 
the lights in the street. It was a pretty picture for Harry 
to contemplate, and he felt that God hates a coward. 

" Doris dear/’ he said, plumping himself down on the 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


235 


sofa alongside of her. “ Keep house for me, and not for 
Hugo/’ and then grasping her hand, he slid off the sofa 
with a thud upon his knees. “ Doris darling, tell me, will 
you be good to me, and be my wife ? ” And then strug- 
gling on, fearing to hear her reply, and trying to convince 
himself it would all come right, he commenced, “ I know 
I am not brilliant, but I do love you, Doris, and I will be 
kind and good to you if you will only love me a little bit. 
I am not good at talking, but I mean all I say, and a good 
deal more,” and stroking her hand he tried to read a favor- 
able decision in her face, but she only looked sadly down 
at him a moment and then said : 

“ Come, Harry, get up from the floor, you are too big to 
be down there, sit down beside me and let me talk to you.” 
Reluctantly and faint-heartedly Harry did as directed. 

“ My dear Harry,” she said, “ this idea of yours that you 
wish to marry me, is a foolish one. I have no doubt you 
like me, and I am very fond of you, but that is not enough 
for two people to marry on. This decision in our lives 
means happiness or misery; you will forgive me, Harry, 
but you are not fit to be married,” — the poor boy hung his 
head — “you do not know what you want, some new sensa- 
tion, probably.” Harry tried a mild protest, but Doris 
continued, “you look for excitement and change; you are 
full of animal spirits, and a quiet home life, such as I 
should wish to live, would soon become irksome to you. 
No, Harry, I am not the one you need. Married life should 
be calm, peaceful and safe; with you it would be feverish, 
uncertain, and precarious. I admit that I am fond of you, 
but let us drop this question of marriage.” 

For a moment Harry had been discouraged at Doris’ 
calm views in relation to married life, but gradually he re- 
gained his normal frame of mind, and seizing Doris’ hand, 
he essayed, in his most stormy, impetuous manner, to con- 
vince her that she was mistaken. 


236 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ I can’t half tell you, Doris, all I feel ; I have no pretty 
phrases in which to tell you how much I love you; I know 
I seem stupid to you, but I am not.” Doris smiled a little 
at this statement, and Harry, gaining courage, went on, 
blindly trying to find reasons why Doris should marry 
him. It would have been better had he desisted then and 
there. “You must marry me, Doris, I need you, I shall 
be so proud of you, and you will make me better, a thou- 
sand times, than I am; mother has told me a hundred times 
I ought to have a wife like you.” 

At this, a sudden change came over Doris’ face, drawing 
the hand away, which until this moment she had allowed 
him to hold, her face flushed with anger at the thought 
that she had been discussed in this way. Pointing to a 
chair, she said in a freezing tone : 

“Sit down there, Mr. Richmond, and I will tell you 
something you did not think of. In all that you have said 
to me of your desire for my hand, what I am to he to you, 
and what I can do for you, has been uppermost. It is not 
enough that the person who honors me by asking for my 
hand in marriage should feel that I am just suited to him. 

“ What are you to be to me ? Shall I honor, esteem, and 
admire you ? Is your character — are your habits, morals, 
and instincts — such that we shall be in harmony with each 
other? Must I give everything and receive nothing? 
What has been your life, Harry Richmond ? Has it been 
such a one as would recommend you to a young, trusting 
girl who could give you the first love of her heart ? Ho, 
Harry, I am ashamed to say that I know more of your life 
than you think I do, and now I beg of you to change it, 
and when next you carry your love and place it at the feet 
of her you wish to honor, let it be a purer, more unselfish 
love than that you have brought to me.” Doris rose gently 
and left the room. Harry made no opposition, hut long 
after she had gone, he paced the floor and soliloquized; 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


237 


“ Stupid fool that I was to ask a girl like that to marry 
me; I ought to have known better, but the mater put me 
up to try it. Fm an idiot of the first water! Next time 
Fll know better. I believe she is fond of me, though. Fil 
never quit now. She is a dear, sweet girl, and I don’t see 
why I should ask her to reform me, as she said.” And 
then something of his mother’s energy rising in him, he 
smashed his hand on the table and cried out, “she shall 
marry me yet.” 

When Mrs. Richmond returned home she found her be- 
loved son stalking up and down the parlor in an angry, 
reckless fashion, and upon her entrance he turned at once 
upon her. 

“ There, mother, you made me make a fool of myself, 
and spoil my best chances with Doris. She will have 
nothing to do with me; told me I was a ruffian, a loafer, 
and a blackguard.” 

“Harry Richmond,” ejaculated his mother, “did that 
chit of a girl dare to say that to you ? The presuming 
jade ! Is she a princess ? What does she mean ? But I’ll 
teach her a lesson.” 

“You’ll do nothing of the kind, my dear mother, for she 
was right,” and then he told her what Doris had really 
said. 

“ Never mind, Harry, my boy, that girl shall marry you 
yet, I’ve made up my mind to that.” 

“And so have I,” laughed Harry, imbibing some of, hi:} 
mother’s confidence. 

“ Be kind and attentive, Harry, I’ll manage it. Good- 
night” 


238 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

NOVEMBER 6TH AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 

Abraham Lincoln was elected, as Commodore Vander- 
felt had predicted. The North was jubilant and the South 
correspondingly depressed. Among other consequences 
of this event, stocks for a few days were booming. Old 
Tatum bought and bought, chuckling all the while that 
he had obtained his information so cheaply. A day or two 
after the election, Mr. Tatum came into his office in high 
good humor and even treated Wheelock pleasantly. He 
had had a clean shave, and wore a new necktie in place of 
the old frayed one which had seen such continuous service. 

“ Things look well, Wheelock, very well,” then smooth- 
ing out the wrinkles in his sallow cheeks with his thumb 
and forefinger, he said : 

“ Let me see, Wheelock, who sold us that ten thousand 
* Central * ? ” 

Mr. Wheelock looked over his books, “Dawes & Co., 
sir,” he replied. 

“Ha! ha! Dawes, eh, hum; Dawes is off a little, this 
time. And the * Cleveland & Toledo/ who sold us the five 
we have there ? ” 

Mr. Wheelock looked it up. “ Dawes & Co., sir.” 

“ Eh ? Dawes & Co., too ? Well, that is good, Dawes - will 
get into a hole. Lemme see, who sold us the f C. H. & I.?’ 
We had ten, bought them, I think, just before election ?” 

“Yes, sir,” replied Mr. Wheelock, “James Cateret & Co. 
sold us that ten.” 

“ What ? J ames Cateret ! Call him for margins.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


239 


“ He has fifty thousand up now, Mr. Tatum.” 

“Never mind, call him five cents more. I’ll break him, 
the windy fool, and he’ll owe it to his daughter, too. Won- 
der who he sold it for ? ” 

“ Shall I go now, sir ? ” said Mr. Wheelock. 

“No, there’s no hurry, wait a bit and write up your 
books.” 

For more than an hour nothing was heard in the office 
but the scratch, scratch of Wheelock’s pen; the occasional 
sputtering of the coal in the grate — for the day was a cool 
one — and the rustle of papers in Mr. Tatum’s private 
room. The few rays of sunlight which struggled through 
the clouds, added little to the cheerfulness of the office, 
for the window panes were thick with dust. Scratch — 
scratch — scratch, rustle — rustle — rustle. Suddenly a quick 
footstep is heard, and the office door is opened hurriedly. 

“Where’s Tatum, Wheelock ?” exclaimed Driscoll, Mr. 
Tatum’s partner in the bank, allowing the door to swing 
to with a bang. The old man stuck his head out of the 
office, and called out in a querulous voice, “What a 
racket you make, Driscoll, why can’t you come in quietly ? ” 

Not a word did Mr. Driscoll reply, but hastening to the 
private office, he closed the door, and then faced Mr. Ta- 
tum, who saw instantly that something was wrong. 

“Well, well, speak up, now, what is it? You didn’t 
come here with this rush for nothing.” 

“No, indeed, Tatum, I didn’t; do you know what the 
market is ? ” 

“ Booming, eh ? ” burst out the old man rubbing his 
hands and giving Mr. Driscoll a slap on the knee. “ Don’t 
get excited, I knew it was coming. Why, what’s the mat- 
ter now ?” seeing a look of amazement and almost horror 
on Mr. Driscoll’s face. 

“My God! Mr. Tatum, haven’t you heard anything? 
All the Southern States are ‘ going out.’ Howell Cobb has 


240 NOT TO THE SWIFT. 

resigned, and they say England will help the South ; the 
market has gone all to pieces, and Dawes & Co. have just 
called us for a hundred thousand.” 

" Wha — what ! ” yelled the old man, his hands quivering, 
while he grasped the arms of his office chair, " a hun — 
No, Driscoll, it’s a joke, ‘a hundred thousand/ no!” The 
old man sank hack in his chair, shaking as though he had 
the ague. 

" Wheelock, Wheelock, quick, some water, whiskey, any- 
thing, Mr. Tatum is ill,” called Driscoll* trying to loosen 
the old man’s cravat. 

" Better call a physician, Mr. Driscoll,” said Wheelock, 
coming in, " he looks very sick.” 

The old man’s hands continued to shake and his head 
nodded in unison. "No, no,” he ejaculated, "no doctor, I 
wo — won’t have one. I’ll — be — all — right soon,” but he was 
never all right again. The tremor continued, nor did 
that head ever cease its continual vibration while Thomas 
Tatum lived. Gradually he regained his senses, and lis- 
tened to Mr. Driscoll’s story of the break. For a time he 
seemed to regain partially his vigor of mind. " Go back 
to the bank, Driscoll, and stay there, this is only tempor- 
ary,” he managed to say after much effort. 

" Hadn’t you better go to the hotel, Mr. Tatum, and see 
a physician ? ” The old man’s eyes closed, and his head 
shook more vigorously than ever. 

" Go back and look after the bank, Driscoll,” was all he 
said. After Mr. Driscoll left the office, Mr. Tatum nodded 
to Wheelock, who put his head down to listen to what he 
had to say. 

" Go on Change and buy five f Central ’ and five ‘ C. & T.,’^’ 
he got out after much effort. 

" But, Mr. Tatum, I can’t leave you here alone,” said 
Wheelock. 

" Do what — I tell you — you rascal, or I’ll discharge you,” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


241 


hissed the half-paralyzed, but still vindictive old specu- 
lator. 

Mr. Wheelock left the office and when he returned half 
an hour later, he found Mr. Tatum still in the same posi- 
tion. He looked up eagerly as Wheelock entered. 

“ D'you — get — it ? ” 

“Yes, I bought it of Duck, Mr. Tatum, it goes down 
to Cateret & Co.” Mr. Tatum scowled when he heard 
the name. “ Got the ‘ Central 9 at 83, and the ‘ C. & r JV 
at 26.” 

“ Good, now help me up,” he said slowly. 

Wheelock assisted him to rise from the chair and found 
he could walk without assistance, but the tremor remained. 
First one step and then another the old man tried, and 
then turning toward Wheelock he smiled grimly. 

“ Fm not done yet, you villain, get me a cab.” 

Wheelock hastened out and hailed a passing carriage, 
which he assisted the old fellow to enter. 

“ To your hotel ? ” he asked. Mr. Tatum nodded, and 
Wheelock ordered the driver to proceed carefully to the 
Astor House. 

Arrived at the hotel, Mr. Tatum went immediately to 
his room without attracting any special attention; those 
who did see him and noticed his appearance, thought “old 
man Tatum is breaking up.” 

The first thing he did was to summon a physician, the 
most eminent one to be found. When the doctor arrived, 
Mr. Tatum was in bed, resting quietly, without pain. Im- 
mediately upon the physician's entrance Tatum fixed his 
ferret eyes upon him, thinking to read an unprejudiced 
verdict upon his condition ; he might as well have tried to 
read the wall. Quiet, rather grave, in fact professional, 
the man of science seated himself at the bedside. 

“Well, you are ill, Mr. Tatum, tell me something about 
it. Are you in pain ? ” 

16 


242 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


" No,” snapped the old man. " I have no pain, it’s this 
confounded shaking I sent for you to stop.” 

" Is this recent ? ” queried the physician. 

" I don’t know what you call recent, it commenced an 
hour or two ago.” After making a few tests, which Mr. 
Tatum sustained impatiently, he blurted out, "Well, can 
you cure it ?” The doctor shook his head. 

"I may as well tell you now, Mr. Tatum, it never can 
be cured, the trouble is one of the motor cells ” 

" I don’t care about your motor cells,” interpolated the 
irascible patient, " will it kill me ?” 

Now the doctor smiled. "I should say not, Mr. Tatum. 
This came on suddenly, under some strong excitement, prob- 
ably,” — Tatum nodded a little more emphatically than 
usual — " well, while you will never be without the motion, 
except, probably, when asleep, it will not affect your health. 
I would recommend the avoidance of any excitement, and 
the use of nutritious food; you need no medicine,” and 
taking his hat, the learned doctor bowed himself out. 

" Won’t kill me, he says,” soliloquized Mr. Tatum, after 
the doctor’s disappearance. 

"Mustn’t have excitement; eat plenty of food; hump! I 
don’t think I’ll change my life for him.” Nor did he, for 
the next morning, nodding and shaking, he appeared at 
his office as usual. 

The decline in the market seemed partially arrested, and 
although it cost Mr. Tatum great effort to write his checks 
that day, everything passed along as usual. From this day 
on the market dropped and dropped, Tatum nodded and 
shook, and his securities rapidly disappeared to reappear 
at Dawes & Co.’s, or James Cateret’s office. Day by day 
the old man grew thinner and weaker, he seemed to be 
gradually shaking off what little flesh he had. How he 
existed no one knew, for he was never seen to eat. A day 
came when he could no longer furnish margins. He ap- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


243 


peared at Dawes & Co/s office in a carriage, a pitiable 
sight. As he entered Mr. Dawes’ private office he scarcely 
raised his eyes, and when he did, he was surprised to see 
Miss Cateret there, apparently very much at home. As 
for Madeleine, for one moment she was shocked at the ap- 
pearance of the man she had ruined; but the feeling of 
resentment was so strong within her that the look of amaze- 
ment faded from her face and was replaced with one of 
scorn. 

Mr. Tatum paused a moment at the door. 

“Take a seat, Mr. Tatum, you wished to see me?” said 
Mr. Dawes, turning half way round from his position facing 
Madeleine. 

“Ye — yes, bu — but I wished to see you in private, M — 
Mr. Dawes,” he had barely noticed Madeleine’s salutation 
of “ good-morning, Mr. Tatum.” 

“ What you have to say to me can be said in the presence 
of Miss Cateret, Mr. Tatum. It was about margins, was it 
not ? ” 

Tatum hesitated; it was gall and wormwood to him to 
speak before the girl he hoped to ruin together with her 
father, but his necessities compelled him. 

“You — made — another — call — Mr. Dawes,” he said 
slowly, with frequent stops. “Just now I am a little tied 
up; in a day or two I hope to extricate myself, and then ” 

“Am sorry, Mr. Tatum, but my instructions from Mr. 
Kenner were to buy in the stock, unless promptly mar- 
gined.” 

“Mr. — Mr. — Kenner,” gasped the old man, “did I buy 
that stock from Kenner ? ” 

“ Certainly you did. He sold you all you bought.” 

Tatum’s head sank forward, his eyes closed, and his face 
looked as nearly ashen as it was possible for his yellow 
skin to look. When he opened his eyes he fixed them on 
Madeleine, and with his tremulous finger raised — his head 


244 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


shaking in unison — he pointed at her, "you — did — this, — • 
you — put Kenner up to this.” 

Madeleine sat calmly looking at him, perhaps a trifle 
paler than usual, but with a stony look in her eyes. 

" Perhaps you had better tell him, Mr. Dawes,” she said. 

"You have never met Mr. Kenner, have you, Mr. Ta- 
tum ? ” queried Mr. Dawes. 

"No, I don’t know him,” he said. "What good would 
it do when that devil is his mistress ? ” 

Madeleine sprang to her feet. With flashing eyes and 
scarlet cheeks, she walked toward Tatum, who shook and 
quivered in his chair. 

"You scoundrel!” she said, her voice trembling and her 
face blazing with wrath — "do you want to know who 
Charles Kenner is, do you want to see my lover and beg 
him not to ruin you ? You who ruined my father, would 
have ruined me, and are now ruined in your turn! I am 
Charles Kenner, and every dollar you possessed is now 
mine; you ruined my father and insulted me when you 
thought me a simple, dishonored girl; now we are quits. 
Mr. Dawes, buy in that stock unless he margins it before 
the market closes!” 

Madeleine walked back to take her seat, but before she 
could do so Tatum started forward and caught Mr. Dawes 
by the arm. 

It was pitiful to see his earnestness in his efforts to ar- 
ticulate. When he did get a word out, Mr. Dawes saw he 
wished Madeleine’s word confirmed. 

" It is true, Mr. Tatum, Miss Cateret is the great specu- 
lator Charles Kenner. She sold you all the stock you 
bought.” 

"And — James Cateret — what he sold me,” whispered 
Tatum huskily, "did— she — sell — me— that?” 

"Most likely, Mr. Tatum,” replied Mr. Dawes, looking 
at Madeleine, who nodded. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


245 


Tatum stood a moment tottering and then approaching 
Madeleine, he whispered huskily : 

“ Look at me ; a few weeks ago I was rich, people may 
not have liked me, hut they treated me well. I was com- 
paratively healthy, now I am a wreck. My money is gone, 
my credit is gone, my health is gone, and you have done 
it — you, with your pretty cheeks and white teeth, whom I 
thought a silly child, have proved yourself a she-devil. I 
might have lived twenty years yet, but now I must go. 
May the palsy that has settled upon me in my old age not 
spare you in your youth ! May the gold you have stolen 
from me prove your ruin! Your face is young, but your 
heart is older than mine. May no lover ever put his arms 
around you to shield you! May no child cling to you in 
love and trust! Alone, I die unpitied and forsaken. May 
your death bed be more wretched than mine.” 

All this had been whispered with intense bitterness, 
rather than spoken; it took the old man a long while to 
say what he had to say, but no one interrupted him. Mr. 
Dawes made an effort to do so, but was restrained by a 
look from Madeleine. Uttering curses upon the one who 
had ruined him, he turned and tottered toward the door. 
He reached his carriage, and was driven to the hotel ; for 
a few weary months he lingered, but never left his room. 
He died friendless and alone, and so he passes from this 
story. 

“ Rather severe, was it not ? ” asked Madeleine, looking 
at Mr. Dawes, as Tatum left the room. 

“ More than that. Miss Cateret. It seemed an arraign- 
ment and sentence.” Madeleine frowned, shrugged her 
shoulders, and said coldly: 

"Please see Mr. Tatum needs nothing so long as he 
lives.” Mr. Dawes bowed, and Madeleine passed out to 
her carriage. 


246 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

Madeleine’s new home and her evening visitor. 

The old home on Washington Square now seemed to 
Madeleine, with her great wealth, altogether too small and 
insignificant. The home she had schemed and planned to 
save no longer afforded her the satisfaction she had antici- 
pated when it was doubtful whether it would be possible 
to retain it. With her wealth, her wants had increased, 
and a menage in keeping with her increased importance, 
was a necessity. Some one has pithily said, “ Fools build 
houses, and wise people buy them,” and as Madeleine was 
one of the wise ones, she soon found on Fifth Avenue a 
mansion she decided to purchase. New York has always 
possessed an abundance of people on the verge of bank- 
ruptcy, and an equally large number ready to take advan- 
tage of others’ misfortunes. This particular bankrupt had 
possessed taste, and either funds or credit sufficient to en- 
able him to build, and furnish, an almost royal mansion. 
The ready money which Madeleine possessed enabled her 
to dictate the price, and the papers were soon passed 
which made her a householder. 

This especial house was built of brick, with brown-stone 
trimmings, in the prevailing style of the times. There 
was a large, roomy stoop in front, and on the south side 
fifty feet of carefully kept lawn and to the rear the stables. 
A large conservatory opening into the dining-room added 
an air of elegance and brightness to a room otherwise 
rather dismal, from its high-panelled walls of black wal- 
nut, and highly carved walnut furnishings. Adjoining the 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


M 7 

dining-room was the library, Madeleine’s especial pride. 
Here she worked, consulted, wrote her letters, and trans- 
acted her business. Upon the night in question a large 
wood fire burned in the grate; it shed a soft glow and dif- 
fused a gentle warmth through the room. A half gloom 
seemed to gratify Madeleine’s taste for what was sombre 
and funereal; the very light which hung low from the 
ceiling was carefully shaded. It was an evening in March, 
and although Madeleine had taken possession of her new 
home a month previous, she had seen few of her friends, 
except, perhaps, Hugo Bernhard, who was there almost 
daily, and had given her great help in designing the fur- 
nishing for the different rooms. In this very library one 
of his pictures hung over the mantel. One slight altera- 
tion Madeleine had made in her household; Millie, the 
maid, had been dismissed, and Aunt Sally, good, kind- 
hearted, blundering, loving Aunt Sally, had been pensioned 
off, and sent back to her Southern home. It almost broke 
her heart to leave her “ babby,” but Madeleine was inflexi- 
ble, and Aunt Sally was supplanted by a French cook. A 
very formal and precise butler, Hawkins by name, answered 
the door and officiated at table, all of which delighted the 
heart of Mr. Cateret, who dearly loved good living. One 
other change Madeleine made. She felt it prudent in her 
new home to secure the services of a companion, and this 
was accomplished by means of an advertisement, and 
Madeleine selected a Madame Malet, a gentlewoman of 
perhaps fifty years of age. Madame Malet had made a 
runaway match with a handsome young confectioner. To- 
gether, years before, they had sought the shores of the new 
world. After a twenty years’ residence in New York, most 
of the time engaged in assisting her husband in his busi- 
ness, death had separated this attached couple, and left 
the surviving widow with a limited income, without chil- 
dren or family. Madeleine’s advertisement suggested a 


248 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


way to improve her condition, and being mutually pleased, 
Madame Malet became an inmate of the household. Small, 
precise in her dress, which was almost always of some gray 
material, lady-like in her demeanor, mouse-like in her 
movements, she made an admirable housekeeper and com- 
panion. She was Hugo’s bete noir , for he could never get a 
moment alone with Madeleine. Whether this occurred from 
intention or accident he could not determine. If upon 
entering the room where Madeleine was, Madame Malet 
was absent, he had hardy taken his seat when she appeared, 
with some bit of work or a book in her hand. Noiselessly 
she slipped into the room, and with a quiet greeting took 
a seat at the window, and seemed immersed in her em- 
ployment. Hugo would grit his teeth and try to appear 
amiable, but inwardly he chafed at this inconsequential 
presence. Madeleine never appeared to notice his annoy- 
ance, and chatted with him as freely as though he were 
her brother. She gave him commissions to execute, ques- 
tioned him about his work, and altogether treated him as 
if he belonged to her. Never a reference had been made 
to that evening in the conservatory, at the Richmonds. 
Hugo was desperate; no look or word encouraged him to 
fancy himself beloved. Once or twice he tried to rebel, 
and attempted argument — when Madeleine had seemed 
rather dictatorial — but the look he received, and the almost 
imperceptible shrug of the shoulders, warned him not to 
be perverse. 

It was early in the evening on one of New York’s raw, 
March days. The family had dined, Mr. Cateret had re- 
turned to his den up-stairs to have a quiet smoke; Madame 
Malet was occupied with some household duties, and 
Madeleine sat alone in her library. A great change had 
come over the girl who only one short year before arrived 
home from school. Change belongs to youth, the young 
girl develops, becomes mature and womanly. The young 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 249 

man lengthens and broadens, mustache and beard add 
lines and character to a boyish face. 

The change to which I refer was more a mental than a 
physical change. Madeleine sat in an easy chair, a little 
turned away from the large library table. Upon her lap 
rested a telegram, apparently just received. She raised it 
with one hand, glanced at it, then turning, picked up a 
little black memorandum book which, opened, lay face 
down upon the table. A quick comparison of the tele- 
gram and book was hastily concluded, and a smile hovered 
around her beautiful, but hardly lovable, mouth. Replac- 
ing the book upon the table she permitted the telegram 
to fall back into her lap, and mused awhile; but a noise 
at one of the windows attracted her attention. A year 
before, she would have sprung up from her chair and 
rushed to see what it meant; now she coolly turned her 
head and listened. The noise was repeated. 

“A storm blowing up,” she half murmured, and resumed 
her reverie. The fresh wood fire snapped and crackled, 
and the little blue gas flames sissed and spluttered, a slight 
explosion came, and a large coal was blown out upon the 
hearth, threatening to ignite the valuable rug upon which 
her feet rested. Madeleine touched a bell upon the table, 
and Hawkins, the butler, appeared — formal and dignified 
as a butler should be. Madeleine pointed to the coal which 
the grave Hawkins quickly replaced in the grate, and was 
about to withdraw. 

" One moment, Hawkins,” arrested his motion. Made- 
leine referred to the little black memorandum book, and 
then rapidly wrote a telegram, which she addressed to a 
well-known Southern sympathizer, who yet remained in 
Washington, although Abraham Lincoln had been inau- 
gurated now two weeks or more. 

"This goes immediately, Hawkins; send the coachman 
with it, I shall not want him to-night,” she remarked. 
Hawkins bowed and withdrew. 


250 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Wliat was particularly noticeable about Madeleine was 
her self-poise, the suggestion of perfect confidence in her- 
self. There was a repose about her which rarely comes 
but to the matured woman, and is oftenest acquired in the 
school of adversity. 

Upon this evening her forces of self-control were to be 
roughly tested. Hawkins had barely returned when a rap 
came at the door, and in obedience to Madeleine’s “ come 
in,” he again appeared and extended a small salver on 
which rested a card. Madeleine glanced at it, laid it upon 
the table, and said : 

“ Show the lady in, Hawkins.” 

A moment more and the door opened and Grace Rich- 
mond entered the room. 

“ Why, Grace,” said Madeleine, coming forward, “ this is 
kind of you to come on such an evening as this. Lay off 
your wraps and sit down with me and have a nice chat; 
this is the first time you have honored my new house with 
a visit. Well, Grace, what is it?” she said suddenly, 
changing her light, bantering tone, for something in 
Grace’s air impressed her with the fact that this was no 
ordinary call. 

Grace, who had hitherto remained silent, and barely ac- 
knowledged Madeleine’s good-evening, now seemed em- 
barrassed. She sank into a chair and glanced around the 
room. Almost the first thing her eyes rested upon was 
Hugo’s picture — which she well knew — hanging over the 
fireplace. A sudden flush suffused her face, but it quickly 
paled. 

“ Come, dear, out with it,” urged Madeleine, “ it must 
be no common affair which has brought you here so un- 
expectedly.” 

This was spoken a little impatiently, for Madeleine had 
become so business-like in her methods that anything like 
hesitancy irritated her. 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


251 


“I know yon will think me foolish, Madeleine; crazy 
perhaps, I am almost so, hut I have studied it over, and 
studied it, until I determined to see you about it; no one 
knows about my coming.” Madeleine simply opened her 
eyes at this, and Grace continued. " Doris would not have 
allowed it — had she suspected me.” At the mention of 
Hugo’s sister, Madeleine frowned. 

“ Well, my dear, I am listening, but I can’t see what Mr. 
Bernhard’s sister has to do between you and me,” and 
Madeleine shrugged her pretty shoulders. 

“ Why, nothing, to be sure,” replied Grace, " except that 
she is Hugo’s sister,” and a flush stole over her face, and 
then impulsively she drew her chair up toward Madeleine’s, 
and looking for one instant into her face, she grasped the 
passive hand of her old school friend. 

" Madeleine, tell me truly, do you love Hugo Bernhard ? ” 
and her eager eyes were strained to discern in her friend’s 
face a reply to her question. Even before Madeleine’s lips 
could form a phrase she saw she had made a mistake. 
Madeleine’s face hardened, and she withdrew her hand 
from Grace’s passionate grasp and leaning back looked her 
coldly in the face. "And suppose I do love the gentleman 
you have reference to, what is it to you ? By what right 
do you assume to catechize me ? I am not aware that even 
our old friendship could furnish a sufficient excuse for 
this unaccountable, and somewhat impertinent inquiry.” 

Madeleine’s coldness as much as her disdainful reply, 
froze Grace, and the blood left her face, but she was too 
much in earnest and too impetuous to leave it so. 

" Do not put me off so, Madeleine, I implore you,” begged 
Grace, "you do not realize what it all means to me. I love 
Hugo, oh, so much, he is my idol, my God, I cannot give 
him up. I know it is unmaidenly to confess this, but I 
cannot help it. Doris told me you had refused him, why 
do you hold him from me, then ? I know he loves you, 


252 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


but if he saw there was no hope for him, I am sure he 
would love me. I live in him; without him everything is 
a blank. I have fought and fought against it, but it is 
of no use.” And the hot tears rolled down Grace’s cheeks; 
tears of pain, of grief, and mortification. She was a high- 
spirited girl and had always had her own way, and now 
she was humbling herself to her rival. Just this one little 
thing she wished, that Madeleine would give him up. 
Again she raised her eyes to Madeleine’s face. If she only 
could see one sign of her relenting. A death mask would 
have been as expressive, but no words half so coldly insult- 
ing as Madeleine’s manner. 

" Since you are so persistent, I may tell you that I do 
not wish your Mr. Hugo Bernhard, you are welcome to 
him, for all I care, although I knew him long before you. 
He is only a friend of mine, otherwise I have no interest 
in him.” And Madeleine’s inflection indicated plainly 
enough that the whole matter bored her extremely. 

Grace’s face flushed crimson. She was too high-spirited 
a girl not to resent this insolence. 

" I knew you did not love him.” 

" Then why did you ask ?” interrupted Madeleine. 

" I’ll tell you why,” replied Grace hotly, " I did hope 
that you would see that what was your pleasure, was my 
life, I hoped that you would be generous enough to show 
him you did not, and could not love him, and that I should 
have his love as he has mine; but I see you are far too 
selfish and cruel for that. Doris warned me of this, but I 
did not believe my old school friend could be so worldly, 
unfeeling, and criminal as to encourage the constant atten- 
tion of a lover whom she did not love, merely to gratify a 
foolish vanity ” 

"Stop,” cried Madeleine, extending her hand, "do not 
make me forget that you are in my house and for the mo- 
ment my guest.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


253 


“ No, Madeleine Cateret,” almost screamed Grace, now 
wildly excited, “I forget nothing; you have a beautiful 
home, but how did you acquire it ? You ruined and killed 
a poor, inoffensive old man, whose only fault was his great 
love of money, and now with those beautiful eyes of yours, 
and that pale, fair skin, you have bewitched an honorable 
man, whose life you will as surely ruin, that you may 
gratify your love of power. You have no heart, it is a 
stone, and never throbbed with one impulse of kindness, 
love, or sympathy for a human being. I pity you and I 
despise you.” 

How long Grace would have continued this tirade no 
one could tell, when Madeleine’s hand touched the bell on 
the table and grave Mr. Hawkins appeared. Madeleine’s 
first impulse was to summarily dismiss Grace, and show 
her the door, but her innate good breeding forbade this, 
although sorely tried. 

“ See if Miss Richmond’s carriage is at the door, Haw- 
kins, and hand her in, please. Good-evening, my dear.” 

It was impossible for Grace to say or do anything. One 
look she gave Madeleine, a look of despair she long re- 
membered, and then turned and followed the butler, who 
opened the carriage door. 

“ Say home, please,” she replied in answer to his query 
and the door closed. She buried her face in her handker- 
chief in one corner of the carriage, and sobbed as though 
her heart would break. 

" Hawkins,” said Madeleine, as she met him in the hall 
on her way to her room, "you can attend to the fire and 
put out the lights in the library; and, Hawkins, remember, 
I am never at home if Miss Richmond calls again.” 


254 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTEE XXVII. 
a Jesuit’s oath. 

While Madeleine was undressing that night, a multi- 
tude of thoughts were flitting through her active brain. 

“My! what a little tiger cat Grace Eichmond turned 
out to be. The idea of her questioning me in the way she 
did! Well, it is all over now, we shall never be friends 
again. Why should we? We have nothing in common 
but Hugo,” and Madeleine laughed quietly. 

“ Do I love that handsome fellow ? He is nice, and kind, 
but weak, awfully weak. No, I’m afraid he would tire me. 
What a different man is Monsieur Laujac; now, if Hugo 
had only some of his character — he’s a man to look up to, 
ah! but hardly a man to love, there it is; well, one can’t 
have everything. I suppose I shall marry some time, if 
only to escape the duennaship of dear little Mulct. Well, 
I won’t worry now,” and Madeleine sank into her downy 
couch, wondering how Grace knew about old Tatum. 

In another part of the city another soliloquy was being 
enacted. Monsieur Laujac still retained his quarters at 
the Astor House. He came and went on various errands, 
but always retained his rooms there. On this same March 
evening he had returned from Washington — he had been 
for a month past in that city — had witnessed the inaugura- 
tion of Lincoln and had been quietly, secretly, but surely, 
sounding various Southern sympathizers. Eeturning to 
New York late that afternoon, he had been running over 
a large mail which had accumulated in his absence. Among 
the letters was one which he held in his band. The ad- 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


255 


dress had been unfamiliar, but upon opening it he was 
startled to see the same handwriting which had greeted 
him on several former occasions.. The envelope was post- 
marked Washington, and the letter had been mailed two 
or three days previous to his return. At the head were 
the familiar capitals, A. M. D. G., and the latter read : 

“Father Pierre Laujac. 

“ Dear Brother : — I am directed by the General to re- 
quest you to make a tour through the principal cities of 
the South, especially Richmond, Charleston, and New Or- 
leans, and observe the feeling there, particularly the atti- 
tude of the South toward Mother Church. In the present 
state of affairs a speedy departure is requisite.’’ 

There was no signature save the impression of the hand 
with the five-bladed sword. 

After reading this letter carefully a second time, Mon- 
sieur Laujac burned it, glanced through the rest of his 
mail, and settled himself to think. At heart Monsieur 
Laujac wished to remain in New York, but there was no 
help for it, he must go, and probably remain away for 
months, possibly a year. No thought of resenting the dic- 
tum of that note entered his mind. He had been trained, 
as all Jesuits are, in a school of submission. 

All personal interest must be put aside, all human feel- 
ing and inclination must be crushed out, that Holy Mother 
Church should not suffer by this neglect. Strong as this 
man was, in this, he was like wax in the hands of his su- 
periors. Obedience! under all conditions, simple, unques- 
tioning obedience, had been instilled into this man’s mind 
until it was a part of his nature. Even his personal am- 
bition, one of the strongest motives to influence human 
action, must be quelled; and yet it was strong within him, 
rs we shall see. 


256 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“This command from the General hastens my plans, 
and I almost fear Twill ruin them, and yet I cannot go 
away and miss this stroke. It is too soon, by many weeks. 
This is no common girl, and her handling must be done 
skilfully. Strange what an interest I take in her! How 
we grope through life anyway. 

“It is a pity I must pull my strings, and my net is not 
well laid. What a clever girl Miss Cateret is, and worth 
over a million ! If I can only bring her and her fortune 
into the Church. Stop! I might, I might — Ah! this order 
forces my hand, hut I can’t go and leave her with this 
silly artist. She is but a woman after all, a wonderful one, 
but a woman still. Stay, I have it. I’ll propose to her, 
possibly I can hold her, ‘ case of conscience,’ ” and spring- 
ing to his feet he paced up and down the room. Was he 
disturbed at the thought that he, a Catholic priest, was 
about to attempt to win the heart of a young girl whom 
he knew he could never marry ? Did it occur to him that 
to deliberately set about winning the love of Madeleine 
Cateret was as diabolical an act as planning her murder ? 
If the truth be told, he never for one moment reflected 
upon the subject. Father Laujac had a meritorious pur- 
pose in view; he sought, first, the power it would give him 
to control Madeleine’s wealth, and, secondly, he purposed 
bringing her and her money into the safe fold of the 
Church. For did he not call to mind the instructions of 
the Jesuit fathers, “Above all things, every effort must be 
made to gain the ear and mind of the rich and great. 
Widows and orphan children should be treated tenderly, 
and discreetly, to the end that Holy Mother Church may 
benefit by the acquisition of their wealth.” 

Yes, certainly, Father Laujac had authority for the 
course he had mapped out for himself. If he could bring 
that million into the Church, what position could he not 
aspire to in his order ? He had a superior in America, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 2$y 

why should he not win his place ? He felt that he had 
great ability and must convince them of that. 

He knew he had to deal with a bright mind, and his 
hand was forced, as it were, but it would never do to leave 
the prize while that love-sick artist had her ear. A short 
time longer he continued his thoughtful march up and 
down, when a sudden resolve seemed to seize him, and 
sitting down at his desk he wrote a few lines hastily, and 
addressing it to Father Joseph Riordan, St. Mary’s Church, 
he rang for a messenger and dispatched the note. 

Early the next morning Father Riordan’s parish bell 
rang, and Monsieur Pierre Lan jac’s card was handed him. 

"Show the gentleman into the parlor, Anne,” he re- 
marked to the tidy-looking, middle-aged Irishwoman who 
served as his housekeeper, “ tell him I shall be engaged for 
a few moments, but will see him very soon,” and Father 
Riordan returned to his study. 

" He is here already,” he said, addressing a gentleman 
who stood with his back to the door examining a book — 
“ you had better step into the bed-room,” and opening a 
door he disclosed a small bed-room, plainly furnished. 
Drawing a chair to the wall next the study, he picked up 
a rubber tube about two feet long to which was attached 
an ear-piece, and turning to his visitor, an older man than 
himself, with strongly marked features, he added: “ If you 
will be kind enough to sit here I think everything will be 
distinctly heard; you had better lock the door, I will ad- 
mit him now.” And turning, he closed the door of the 
bedroom which the other gentleman immediately locked, 
and seating himself placed the tube at his ear. Father 
Riordan had barely returned to the study when his second 
visitor had been admitted to the parlor. Placing a chair 
between his own seat at the desk and the wall, he quickly 
passed into the parlor. 

" Monsieur Lau jac ? ” he inquired interrogatively, as he 

T 7 


258 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


entered. Father Riordan was tall and thin, with a palo 
ascetic expression of countenance — and Monsieur Laujac 
scrutinized him carefully, seeking to determine the char- 
acter of the man he wished to interview. 

“ Well, yes, Father Riordan, just now Monsieur Laujac, 
but permit me to introduce myself in another way,” and 
he handed the Father a card which read, “ Father Pierre 
Laujac, S. J.” 

“Ah! indeed. Father,” responded the priest, glancing 
at the card, a faint smile passing over his face, “ I suspected 
as much, when I saw your face. Will you be kind enough 
to step into my study, where we shall not be liable to in- 
terruptions.” And ushering Monsieur Laujac into the 
little room, he closed the door, and taking his seat at the 
desk, motioned Monsieur Laujac to the chair he had before 
adjusted. 

“I need not ask if we are alone, Father Riordan,” said 
Monsieur Laujac, glancing around. 

“ Entirely, we shall not be disturbed. You mentioned 
in your note that you wished to consult me in regard to 
one of my flock ; may I ask to whom you refer ? ” 

“ Certainly, Father, Mademoiselle Cateret : if I am not 
mistaken you are her father confessor.” 

<c Oh, yes,” replied Father Riordan, resting the elbow of 
his left arm upon the arm of his chair, and placing his 
long, thin fingers upon his temple. “ Miss Cateret con- 
fesses to me, but she is not, I am sorry to say, very regular 
in her attendance at confessional; worldly affairs seem to 
occupy her mind to the exclusion of more serious and vital 
questions. I feel grave doubts as to the condition of her 
mind on religious questions.” A faint flush passed over 
the Father's pale face as he made this remark, and he 
seemed lost in thought. Monsieur Laujac had been study- 
ing his man, like a skilled physiognomist as he was, and 
the conclusion he arrived at, was, that Father Riordan was 


Not TO THE SWIFT. 259 

a fanatical enthusiast to whom Church is all, and self, 
nothing. 

“'Tis sad, indeed, Father, that young minds so carefully- 
trained as Miss Caterers has been, should yield to wordly 
temptations and forget Christ. W e must he all the stronger 
and more persistent in saving such souls. It only needs 
patient work; all extraneous influences must be suppressed. 
I trust no heretic has won her heart; such a marriage 
would peril great hopes the Church cherishes of receiving 
a liberal endowment -which her early training in one of cur 
schools encourages us to look for.” 

Monsieur Laujac paused a moment, and then seeing 
Father Riordan not disposed to answer, he continued, in- 
terrogatively : 

"You have not discovered, Father, any predilection, any 
sentiment, which would lead you to infer the young lady 
meditated disposing of her hand to some heretic ? ” 

Father Riordan's face flushed and he moved uneasily in 
his chair. 

“ How can I speak of these things, Father Laujac ? I 
have no knowledge which has not come to me under the 
seal of the confessional.” Monsieur Laujac smiled com- 
passionately at the innocence of the good priest. 

“ My dear Father Riordan, I thoroughly appreciate your 
scruples, they become you, but there are exceptions to all 
rules; certain contingencies arise necessitating the fullest 
comprehension of matters of which the Church takes cog- 
nizance; this is one.” Placing his hand in his breast 
pocket he removed a letter which he tendered to Father 
Riordan, at the same time assuming a severe and dictatorial 
tone, he addressed him with these words : 

“ Remember your oath, remember your vows when re- 
ceived into our sacred order. You swore, ‘to help, assist 
or advise, any or all of his Holiness's agents, in any place, 
territory or kingdom, in which you might be stationed.' 


26 o 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


You swore, ‘to do your utmost to extirpate heretical ten- 
dencies, and to inform his Holiness’s agents of any and all 
matters which might come to your knowledge, prejudicial 
to the welfare and interest of Holy Mother Church ! ’ This 
I now demand of you in your capacity of father confessor. 
I demand this as your superior in the order.” 

Father Laujac paused and eyed Father Riordan search- 
ingly, who having read the letter addressed, “ to all mem- 
bers of the Order of Jesus throughout the world,” could 
no longer resist the demands made upon him. 

“ What is it you wish to know. Father Laujac ?” 

“ I wish to know if Miss Cateret has a lover, and if so, 
who he is,” replied Laujac pleasantly. 

“ I have not seen Miss Cateret for several months, she 
is not very regular at confession, but I recollect that she 
did confess to having proposals of marriage made to her 
by an artist, who is a heretic, a man named Bernhard; 
more than that I do not know,” replied Father Riordan. 
Monsieur Laujac smiled at the priest’s words, but his black 
eyes shone with an angry look. 

“ It is well, Father, that is all I wished to know,” and 
he replaced the paper in his pocket. “ I find I have already 
detained you too long; if you should have any further in- 
formation to give me, address me care of the Astor House, 
but remember only as Monsieur Pierre Laujac; any letters 
will be forwarded to me. I fear I must put up with much 
less comfortable quarters than these for some time to 
come,” and he looked around the comfortable room re- 
gretfully, “ but it is all ‘ad majorem Dei gloriam,”’ and 
Monsieur Laujac shook Father Riordan’s hand warmly, 
and bade him good-morning. The outside door had barely 
clicked behind him when the door between the bed-room 
and Father Riordan’s study opened, and Dr. Maginn stood 
upon the threshold, looking at the rather crest-fallen 
priest. 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


261 

“ My dear doctor, I could not answer otherwise,” said 
the priest, "the instructions were too imperative; his 
powers are extraordinary.” 

"Never mind, never mind, there is no harm done; you 
were perfectly right in answering,” and he grasped the 
presented hand and pressed it. " He has the authority to 
question, but I have authority to listen; make your mind 
easy. If, by the way, you have occasion to write him, send 
me a copy of your letter,” and Dr. Maginn leaned forward 
and whispered to Father Kiordan, whose face brightened 
as he listened. Patting him affectionately on the shoul- 
der, Dr. Maginn left him to his rejections and walked 
slowly down the street. 

Dr. Maginn was no longer a young man, hut he was still 
in the prime of life, his intellect was keen, his health was 
good, and his ambition was great. Naturally he was en- 
dowed with qualities of mind and person which would 
have made him a marked figure in any position in life, 
but his early training had been among the Jesuits, and so 
imbued was he with the sentiments and doctrines of this 
perverted order, that despite his naturally open, frank na- 
ture, training and habit had so warped his conscience that 
he sincerely believed the methods used by them tended in 
the end to the salvation of a greater number of human 
beings, than the more open, and less devious plans pro- 
mulgated by rival doctrinaires. 

It is sufficient to say that he was at heart and soul a 
Jesuit, and whether he clasped your hand with the warm 
frankness of his sunny nature, sipped his grog of a cold 
winter’s evening at your fireside, chatted of books, art or 
music — of which, by the way, he was a great lover — he 
always remained the Jesuit. He could soar into the em- 
pyrean, and climb Parnassus’s heights with a gifted emo- 
tional woman; and the picture of heavenly quiet, and the 
ravishing beauties of celestial symphonies, which he evoked 


262 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


from the depth of his transcendental nature, were almost 
inspired, if he had only believed it all, but he didn’t. With 
the man of the world, the bon vivant , the genial compan- 
ion, he was at home; and the unctuous wit, the picturesque 
view he took of life, and his grotesque humor, carried you 
away with its spontaneity, if you only didn’t know that 
this was a part of his stock in trade. He had been edu- 
cated for this. Yes, he was a charming companion if you 
only believed him and accepted the interesting side he pre- 
sented to you. 

Good Dr. Maginn was not servile. He loved the rich, 
for he was a sensuous man, and with them he gratified his 
earthly nature. In an easy chair, surrounded with beauti- 
ful women, fine, paintings, interesting literature, and a 
little glimmer of mystery, he was happy; and yet he was 
an abstemious man, a generous man, and not at all self- 
indulgent; his indignation was easily aroused at any 
shameless abuse of life, and he often did good in secret; 
his fault was his early training. When night came he 
turned a reverent face toward Rome. 

Dr. Maginn had not walked far when a sudden idea ap- 
parently seized him, and calling a carriage, he asked to be 
driven to James Caterers office. 

% “ I wonder what Pierre Laujac is scheming, his fertile 
brain is hatching some plot, he appears to be paving his 
way for information after his departure, but for what pur- 
pose ? It cannot be ” — and the corners of his mouth 
dropped as some thought flashed through his mind, — “no, 
that would be too ridiculous to believe. He knows Made- 
leine is very rich, he is very ambitious, and may think he 
can influence her choice of a husband. Ah! well, he will 
bear watching; he must not supplant me!” Just then 
the driver pulled up at Mr. Caterers office and Dr. 
Maginn ran up-stairs. Davie met him at the door, and 
after a few moments’ conversation he pulled on his coat 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


263 


and told Wheelock to tell Mr. Cateret he had some very 
important business to attend to and should not be down 
again until the next day. Together with the doctor he 
walked down-stairs, and after a few words more they sep- 
arated, the doctor entered his carriage, and Davie took a 
street car up-town. 


264 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A PROPOSAL. 

What a pity astrology is out of fashion! Had it not 
been so, Madeleine Cateret would have known on the 
morning of the 23d of March, 1861, that a very important 
event was to happen in her life. As it was, she arose at 
her usual hour, scolded papa Cateret for being late at 
breakfast, arranged for a little shopping with Madame 
Malet, sipped her coffee with quiet pleasure, and directed 
Hawkins to order the carriage at ten sharp. Had she only 
known the aspect of the stars, that Venus in the seventh 
hour was opposed to Mercury in the eleventh, that Jupiter 
as the sign of the Scorpion, predicted danger to Virgo in 
the right conjunction; had Zadkiel, or Tycho Brahe lived 
at this time, and had Madeleine only consulted one of 
them, she might have been warned; as it was, in virgin 
innocence, she went about her business as usual. 

When little Davie left Dr. Maginn in front of Mr. Ca- 
terers office, he took, as I have said, an up-town car. When 
some distance above Union Square, he alighted and walked 
over to Fifth Avenue and established himself at a corner 
not far from the Cateret house, but yet so far distant as 
not to attract attention. 

To explain why Davie took this position, it is only nec- 
essary to say that Dr. Maginn knew he was a humble ad- 
mirer of Miss Cateret, and knowing this, he preferred to 
use him in obtaining the services of a private detective; he 
had merely asked Davie to watch the house, as a danger 
threatened Miss Cateret. He was to observe if a pale gen* 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


265 

tleman, looking somewhat like a priest, entered the house 
that day, and if so, he must remain until he left and im- 
mediately report the circumstance to him. 

“You will know him, Davie,” he said, “he walks so,” 
and Dr. Maginn illustrated Monsieur Laujac’s method of 
walking, with his hands partially closed, and the backs al- 
ways turned outside. 

When Davie took up his post of observation, Madeleine 
had already left home in her carriage to attend to he? 
shopping; he saw many people call at the house, both on 
foot and in carriages. For since the hall to the Prince of 
Wales, Madeleine had been taken up by New York swell 
society, and from Governor and Mrs. Morgan down, all 
were glad to know her. Together with her social duties, 
and her political intrigues, Madeleine had established 
quite a salon. Few knew the object of her persistent seek- 
ing for social triumphs, but Madeleine coolly calculated 
that the more extensive her acquaintance, the wider the 
field of her operations. Many a prominent politician and 
party leader parted with his secrets unconsciously at the 
bidding of this young and beautiful ingenue, and the said 
secrets found their way within a few days into the hands 
of the enemy. 

It was well known, but unaccountable, how quickly the 
plans of the Administration leaked out through the New 
York sieve. There was not a suspicion that a young girl 
was the medium of communication. But to return to vigil- 
ant Davie. He saw all these people, but none answered 
the description he had received. 

About noon, Madeleine herself drove by in her carriage 
and caught a glimpse of him. She ordered the coachman 
to pull up, and beckoned Davie who could not escape; he 
approached the carriage door. 

“ What are you doing up here, Davie ? ” she said to the 
blushing boy. 


266 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


" I just came up on an errand, Miss Cateret," replied 
bashful Davie. 

" And were not going to stop and see me ? 0 Davie! " 

Poor Davie, those beautiful black eyes looked so charm- 
ingly at him, and the sweet mouth framed so sweet a 
smile, that Davie felt " all over/' as he explained it to Dr. 
Maginn. 

" Indeed, Miss Cateret, I couldn't to-day," and hesitating 
a little, " but I'll come some day, if you'll let me," and 
again the happy boy's face grew scarlet. 

" Come any time, Davie, come and dine with me," said 
Madeleine encouragingly. 

" Oh, may I, Miss Cateret ? I should like to so much ! " 

"Well, then you have a standing invitation to come any 
time, Davie; good-by," and Davie's vision passed from be- 
fore his eyes. He looked longingly after the carriage, and 
saw Madeleine enter the house, having entirely forgotten 
poor, crippled worshipping Davie, to whom she had flung 
a sweet smile and a kind word, out of pure selfishness, and 
an inordinate desire for admiration, even though it came 
from the mean little hunchback. 

Not long after this incident, Davie's watch was rewarded; 
he saw his man and knew him instantly. The pale face 
and peculiar walk were quickly noticed by the street boy, 
and he was not surprised when his man stopped at the 
house, and rang the bell. Davie saw Hawkins open the 
door and the gentleman entered; then he settled back to 
watch for his exit, but he waited a long while. 

"Show the gentleman into the library, Hawkins, and 
say I am engaged if any one calls," remarked Madeleine, 
upon looking at the card the butler brought her. When 
Madeleine entered the library she passed through the re- 
ception-room, and saw Monsieur Laujac standing before 
the picture of Hugo's. His back was turned and he evi- 
dently did not hear her light footfall. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 2 67 

“ Are you studying art, Monsieur Laujac ? What do you 
think of that picture ? ” was Madeleine’s greeting. 

“ I beg pardon. Miss Cateret, I did not hear you enter. 
Yes, I was examining the painting, it is cleverly done, I 
was trying to make out the artist’s name. But I think I 
prefer to study the picture now before me,” and Monsieur 
Laujac took Madeleine’s hand in his soft palm and even 
retained it a trifle longer than usual, which Madeleine in- 
stantly reflected upon. 

“ You have not been to see me for some time, Monsieur 
Laujac,” remarked Madeleine, ignoring the compliment 
her visitor desired to pay her. “ Won’t you he seated, here 
on the lounge ? ” and Madeleine sank into her chair near 
the library table. 

“ Come, monsieur, explain yourself. Why have you been 
so remiss in your attentions ? There was a time when you 
professed it a pleasure to come and see me, has some new 
face caught your vagrant fancy ? ” 

“ ‘ Professed pleasure,’ did you say f professed,’ Miss Ca- 
teret ? ” inquired Monsieur Laujac in his sweet, grave tone. 
“ I think you should have said I confessed the pleasure it 
has always given me to see you.” 

“ Oh, we won’t quarrel about the word. Monsieur Lau- 
jac,” laughed Madeleine, airily, “ since you evidently have 
not thought it worth while to take advantage of your op- 
portunities.” Was she playing into his hands deliber- 
ately ? It looked that way. 

“How little you know the constant current of men’s 
minds ” 

“ Men’s or one man’s ? ” interrupted Madeleine. 

At this abrupt interruption Monsieur Laujac looked up 
quickly and fixed his piercing black eyes upon her face. 
Madeleine’s heart thrilled at the intensity of the gaze and 
she wondered what was coming. Not for an instant did 
his look waver, Madeleine felt a benumbing sensation 


268 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


creeping over her, and a sense of oppression caused her to 
utter an audible sigh. Her attitude of expectancy was that 
of a bird, when the slowly waving head of the hooded snake 
vibrates before its resting place. At first she wished to 
scream, and then settled back into quiet apathy and half 
enjoyed the stupefying effect she experienced while look- 
ing into the Jesuit’s e}^es. As she had often served others, 
so she was being served herself, and when the low, care- 
fully modulated tones of Monsieur Laujac fell upon her 
ear, she seemed in a dream. 

“ When I came up your front steps, Miss Cateret, to 
make a parting call upon you, a very beautiful bit of Eng- 
lish verse came to my mind. I know not who wrote it, 
but it expresses my feeling so vividly I am tempted to re- 
peat it and see if you have ever heard it.” 

“ Do,” was all Madeleine could say. 

“ It runs like this,” and in a rich and well-trained voice 
he repeated these lines: 

“ ‘Like as a plank of driftwood, 

Tossed on the wat’ry main, 

Another plank encounters, 

Meets, touches, parts again, 

So, tossed and drifting ever, 

On life’s unending sea, 

Men meet, and greet and sever, 

Parting eternally.’ 

“ Beautiful, is it not, Miss Cateret ? ” But Madeleine 
did not reply. “ It is hardly apropos to our conversation, 
but as I am about to leave New York for a long journey, 
I came to-day to bid you good-by.” 

“ Bid me good-by ? Are you going away ? ” Madeleine 
seemed to have partially aroused from her stupor. 

“Yes, Miss Cateret, I came to America on a special mis- 
sion, and I must leave to-night for the South. In the 
present condition of affairs travelling is somewhat difficult. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


269 

and I do not know when I shall return. My work is in 
the interest of the ‘ cause/ and that reminds me, I see you 
no longer wear my little gift, but a much more gorgeous 
one. Is mine so soon relegated to the jewel box ?” 

“ Oh, no, indeed,” responded Madeleine, now alive to all 
he was saying. “You remember the ball to the Prince of 
Wales. While dancing with me, his arm brushed against 
the pretty cross you were kind enough to give me. The fast- 
ening broke, it fell to the floor, and before he could pre- 
vent it, he had stepped upon it, crushing it. I felt very 
much grieved, it seemed such a bad omen to the cause; the 
Prince noticed my disappointment, and probably thought 
if he replaced it 'with another it would not be missed. I 
received from Tiffany’s, a short time afterward, this one, 
with a line asking me to accept it in place of the one he 
had ruined.” 

“ Not a difficult thing to do ; the gifts of Princes are al- 
ways acceptable,” replied Monsieur Laujac, rather bitterly. 

“And why should I reject a gift so courteously offered ? ” 
returned Madeleine, somewhat coolly, and in a tone which 
notified Monsieur Laujac he had presumed too much. 

“ My dear Miss Cateret,” the wily Jesuit hastened to say, 
“you entirely misunderstood me. Why should I resent 
your receiving what gives you pleasure ? I have no right 
to do so, whether the Prince of Wales, or any gentleman, 
presents you with a cross. I might reasonably regret, how- 
ever, that / could not be the giver of a gift you prize.” 

The perfectly quiet, calm tone of Monsieur Laujac dis- 
pelled any anger Madeleine might have felt at his unwar- 
ranted sneer, and she studied his face to ascertain his real 
feelings. This man had certainly won Madeleine’s high 
respect; he had never failed, in his deportment toward her, 
to indicate his great admiration for her superior qualities; 
all this gratified her ambition; the esteem of such men she 
craved. All hostile feeling, a sentiment easily aroused in 


NOT TO TITE SWIFT. 


2/0 

this girTs mind, was stilled. Just then Monsieur Laujac 
arose as though he would bid her good-by. There was, 
Madeleine noticed for the first time, a slight tinge of pink 
in his pale, handsome countenance; he paused a moment 
undecided or apparently so, but nothing was further from 
his mind than indecision; this was a part of his cfarefully- 
planned acting. 

“ You are not going, Monsieur Laujac ? ” inquired Made- 
leine rising, “ I have so many things I wished to talk with 
you about, and here you rush off before I have half time 
to think of them.” 

“It is more difficult for me to go than you think, Miss 
Cateret, but my time is so limited, as I leave to-night, I 
must not linger, pleasant as it is,” and placing his hand 
upon his heart he bowed with exceeding grace. 

“We shall miss you greatly at our meetings,” said Made- 
leine. “AVhat a pity you must go, can it not be post- 
poned ? ” 

Monsieur Laujac smiled, “ If anything could keep me, 
your expressed wish would be sufficient,” and then start- 
ing forward as if struck with a sudden impulse: 

“ If only I could go with the assurance, Madeleine,” he 
exclaimed, seizing her unresisting hand and fixing his 
burning eyes upon her, while he appeared trying to resist 
the exhibition of some suppressed emotion — “ have you 
been so blind as not to see that separation from you is 
tearing up my heart ? Must a lover grovel on his knees 
to the woman he adores, that she may enjoy his infatua- 
tion, though his heart be torn in the conflict ? Must he 
lay it bare that the tension of each quivering fibre be 
noticed and tested, before conviction penetrates the soul 
of the beloved one ? ” 

Then for a moment he covered his eyes with his disen- 
gaged hand, struggling apparently to conceal the depth of 
his anguish. A great calm succeeded the storm. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


271 


“ Madeleine, I came to bid you good-by, with no other 
thought ; but seeing you, being in your gracious presence, 
lias been too much for my strength, I have betrayed my 
secret! Well, so be it! Let me confess it, I am proud to 
love you. Tell me, is it an insane dream that a man of 
thirty-five, — he was forty — dares to love a young girl like 
you ? Tell me, is it an incredible act of folly on my part 
to indulge such a fancy ? ” Then folding his arms he 
stood proudly before her. 

“ But why should I strive to justify myself ? I have 
eyes to take in form and color, intellect to seize the ripen- 
ing thought your active brain conceives, and give it shape 
and force; emotions equal to the task of sharing any va- 
grant fancy a maiden heart unfolds to him who has its key. 
Must I then seal my lips, and crush back the passions you 
have unconsciously aroused ? Is all that the world holds 
for me of beauty, hope, and promise an illusion my heated 
fancy has evolved, which you shall shatter at a word ? ” 

He paused, and Madeleine was impressed with the dig- 
nity of his manner, as she had been with the eloquence of 
his speech. Whab a finished bit of acting would have been 
unfolded to the on-looker at this moment! 

The Jesuit, intellectual, facile, passionate and argumen- 
tative by turns, first fed her vanity, then gratified her am- 
bition, and finally piqued her fancy. 

Madeleine, selfish, calculating, and emotionless, seemed 
moved, half won, yet slyly holding back. 

“ Monsieur Laujac,” said Madeleine — putting out her 
hand which he grasped warmly — “if I seem unresponsive, 
astonishment has tied my tongue; anything more unex- 
pected than this, it would be difficult for me to conceive. 
The honor you do me, however, I fully comprehend. You 
are a learned man, a man of the world, and I am a poor 
untutored girl; you must really give me time to consider 
this strange situation in which I find myself placed.” 


272 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Monsieur Laujac drew a trifle closer, still holding her 
hand, and now placing his left hand upon the back of hers 
in a fatherly sort of a fashion as if to assure her of his gen- 
tleness and candor. 

“ I am not surprised, Madeleine, at your reserve. This has, 
no doubt, startled you with its suddenness; I would have 
had it otherwise, but the necessity for my departure com- 
pelled me to speak or yield all hope of winning your love. 
Why should not other men look upon your grace and 
beauty and feel as strongly moved as I ? But we have 
much in common, Madeleine, you are Catholic and so am 
I, we have one cause to which our hearts are devoted. Can 
we not work together until our great hopes are realized ? 
Who will stand higher in Southern eyes than Madeleine 
Cateret and Pierre Laujac ? ” And the Jesuit looked 
keenly at her face, striving to read the effect of his insinu- 
ating argument. He knew her ambition, he understood 
her desire for power, and he sought to arouse and enlist 
that quality in lieu of passion and affection. 

Whether these feelings were non-existent, or he had 
failed to arouse them, were questions he asked himself. 
He saw that Madeleine’s mind was disturbed, and she did 
not resent his suit. What then ? On what must he base 
his hopes ? 

Madeleine’s mind was disturbed, but not with love; her 
pride was gratified, but that was the extent of her emo- 
tions. How should she hold this man, how should she 
play her cards to insure his continual attention ? She 
must encourage him a little. 

“My dear Monsieur Laujac,” she began, throwing into 
her eyes a look of frankness, and an air of candor which 
deceived the wily priest — himself such an adept at dis- 
simulation — “give me time to think of all this,” her form 
trembled, and she seemed almost unable to proceed from 
excess of emotion. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


273 


" My dear,” he hastened to say, “ you shall have all the 
time you desire, I will not seek to bind you, but you will 
write to me ? ” 

“ Most certainly,” hurriedly answered Madeleine, only 
wishing he would go. Monsieur Laujac bowed his head 
over her beautiful hand, raised it gently to his lips, dropped 
it with a sigh, and vanished from the room. 

“ Well, that was an experience,” soliloquized Madeleine, 
as the door closed upon his retreating form, while she sank 
into a convenient chair and emitted a sigh of relief. 

“ Who would have thought it — quite a conquest — I should 
be sorry to disappoint you, Monsieur Laujac, but I’m afraid 
I love somebody else, at least, as much as a woman as busy 
as I am, can love ! ” 

Monsieur Laujac’s excitement lasted no further than 
the outside door, but he was evidently in good humor, for 
he hummed a little French chanson as he walked slowly 
down the street. Davie, relieved from his post, muttered : 

"He stayed a durned long while, he must have tired 
Miss Cateret out, and I’ll go and find Dr. Maginn and tell 
him.” 

18 


274 


NOT 10 THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

war’s alarums. 

The thirteenth day of April, 1861, awoke a slumbering, 
truculent North to the fact that war, horrible civil war, 
was an established fact. Jesuitism had again, under the 
guise of an effort to maintain the institution of slavery, 
thrust itself between two families, and turned them against 
each other. Will the time ever come when the malign in- 
fluence of this secret and pernicious order shall cease to 
intrude its blighting force into the affairs of nations to 
their undoing ? How well Lafayette recognized the dan- 
ger, when he made his famous assertion : 

“If ever the liberty of the American Republic is de- 
stroyed, it will be the work of Roman Catholic priests.” 
On the 12th, Fort Sumter had been fired upon, the gage 
had been thrown at the feet of a too confiding North, and 
the awakening was a fearful thing to see. First incred- 
ulity, then scorn, and lastly anger, and even ferocity, ani- 
mated the minds of all loyal citizens. From East to West, 
from North to South the tocsin rang; the farmer stopped 
his plough, the artisan dropped his hammer, the merchant 
ceased to exhibit his goods, and the banker to count his 
gold. Heroic sentiments and patriotic speeches fired men’s 
hearts, a busy hum of preparation resounded on all sides. 
Had Madeleine dared, she would have hung out the “ stars 
and bars,” from her windows. She was jubilant, but 
knowing that her usefulness would be curtailed, if it were 
known publicly she was a Southern sympathizer, she made 
no sign. All around her the flag of the Union hung in 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


275 


starry folds from the house tops; the windows of the 
Caterets were closed, and the shades down. That night 
there was a meeting of the “ Order of the Southern Cross,” 
- — a jubilee meeting — Madeleine called it. The excite- 
ment was so great it was voted only to convene upon no- 
tice from the Secretary (Madeleine), who would he notified 
by the Executive Committee (Madeleine), what orders or 
instructions to promulgate. 

Months passed away after Monsieur Laujac departed 
before a letter came. When one did come it was dated at 
New Orleans. It spoke of the great success that had at- 
tended his work in the South. “ The country was thor- 
oughly aroused, and unanimously determined to spill the 
last drop of blood before submitting to the arrogant 
North.” As to his return that was uncertain; if it were 
possible to run the blockade he might return in the au- 
tumn. He spoke of his hopes, urged her to remain true 
to him, and finished by intimating that his work was about 
completed, and he contemplated a return to la belle France 
in the near future; would she accompany him, leave this 
wretched country to settle its quarrels ? ” 

“Well, Monsieur Laujac, it seems to me your enthu si- 
asm for the f cause 9 has somewhat cooled,” thought Made- 
leine. “You were hot enough to encourage the fight; and 
now it is on you withdraw your precious person.” 

“ Oh, no, that won't do for me,” and so she wrote him a 
brief reply, encouraging him to write again, hinting that 
she herself was somewhat tired of it all, but that there 
was still much to be done, and she was always making ar- 
rangements if things went against them. It was a fact 
that, not knowing what the outcome of it all might be — 
and Madeleine was as prudent ns she was partisan — she 
was on the point of transferring the larger portion of her 
wealth to Europe. This was easily arranged through the 
Bank of America, Madeleine knew she was playing a 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


276 

dangerous game, and destroyed every trace of her corre- 
spondence with Southern leaders; no sudden raid should 
find her unprepared. 

One day during the latter part of summer, when the 
excitement on the street had been tremendous, and the 
noise of fife and drum had penetrated every nook of the 
disloyal Cateret household, Hugo called to see Madeleine, 
resolved to tell her that, seeing no hope for his suit, he 
was about to enter the army. He knew Madame Malet 
was absent from her post, having met her on the street a 
short distance from the house, and learned that Madeleine 
was alone. With a rapid step, and a full heart, Hugo has- 
tened on, determined to profit by the temporary absence 
of Madeleine’s duenna, and demand a final answer from 
the beautiful girl who had so bewitched him. Ushered 
into her presence he could barely restrain himself from 
clasping her in his arms. 

Madeleine was dressed in a charming neglige, and Hugo’s 
heart beat rapidly as he surveyed her and realized that the 
crisis had come. Greuze nor Watteau ever painted a 
more charming picture than that Madeleine presented 
while arranging some flowers in their vases upon the man- 
tel, when Hugo entered. Her bare arms -were slightly 
raised, the open white sleeve of her morning costume fall- 
ing back as if conscious their beauty should not be con- 
cealed. Her face was slightly flushed in her efforts to 
arrange the flowers and her hair just a trifle disarranged, 
made Hugo feel that he was admitted as a friend of the 
house, and without ceremony. 

“ How lovely you are this morning, Madeleine,” was his 
entering exclamation. 

“Thank you, Hugo, for the compliment,” replied Made- 
leine, wiping her damp hands and extending the cool, 
white palm to him with the utmost frankness. “Do you 
think so, really, now ? You are looking well yourself,” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 277 

and indeed Hugo did look handsome in a white flannel 
suit with his straw hat held carelessly in his hand. 

“Are you through with your flowers, Madeleine ? If you 
are, I must tell you something,” said Hugo, dropping his 
hat upon the table, and slipping his arm around Made- 
leine’s waist. To his surprise she did not resist it, but 
looked down at her right side, and made a grotesque little 
attempt to remove his fingers, at the same time looking up 
in his face with a mischievous expression of feigned alarm. 

“ How dare you, sir ! ” said the tempter. 

“ Faith, I don’t know myself how I dare, Madeleine, I 
just did it, you know a worm will turn some day, and I 
have endured all I can bear. What a siren you are, to be- 
witch me so. Not a moment alone can I get with you ! 
That amiable she-dragon of yours ” — at this description of 
demure little Malefc, Madeleine burst into a merry fit of 
laughter — “ yes,” he continued, “ that sly creature is now 
out of sight, and how it happens that to-day I am here 
unmolested for a few moments, passes my comprehension.” 
Madeleine knew how it was. Among her other resolves 
was one that perhaps after all she had better give her hand 
to Hugo. She cared as much for him as anybody, and if 
he would only accede to her wishes, she would bestow her 
hand upon him. 

“ Well, sir, what is the wonderful thing you have to tell 
me ? ” But Hugo’s heart was too full of happiness to speak 
just then, and leaning over he impressed a kiss, his first 
lover-like salutation, upon her full red lips. 

“ I shall certainly call Malet if you persist in such rude- 
ness, Hugo,” she said with a pout, but she did not attempt 
to relieve herself from his grasp, nor did she put her threat 
in force. Hugo, intoxicated with his success, was not to 
be denied, and he strained her palpitating form to his, in 
an eager and ardent embrace, and showered kisses upon 
brow, cheeks, and lips. When Madeleine thought this love 


278 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


dalliance had proceeded far enough, she withdrew herself 
from his arms by a quick movement. 

“ Now, sir, tell me what all this means, and why you are 
here! Let me hear the important communication you 
have to make ! " 

Now, Hugo was not aware of Madeleine's Southern pre- 
dilections. She was to him a very beautiful, talented, and 
remarkably attractive girl. Of Madeleine's inner life he 
knew nothing: her wealth and her speculations were 
equally unknown to him. He supposed her father to be 
wealthy. 

“ Come and sit down beside me, Madeleine," said Hugo, 
again possessing himself of her hand, and leading her to a 
seat. "I have been thinking all this morning about the 
terrible state of affairs between the North and South. 
What a pity all cannot be harmonious between us ! This 
civil war is horrible ! " 

"All the more reason why the North should let us alone, 
Hugo, we want nothing of them, let us go in peace, we ask 
nothing more ! " 

“ But that cannot be, Madeleine, we are all a part of a 
confederation of States, bound together by a common bond 
of interest; separating the one from the other was not con- 
templated in our Constitution; if one or two States can 
declare themselves independent, why not any one — New 
York, for instance ? What sort of a Government would 
we have ? We would be continually quarrelling with each 
other." 

“ I don't see that at all, Hugo," responded Madeleine a 
little coolly, “ our interests are different. The Northern 
States are free States; we are slave-holding; the North is 
constantly fighting against our institutions. We must di- 
vide. The South will go her way, and the Northern States 
their way, there can be two capitals and all will be well." 

Hugo shook his head. “ No, dear, it is too late, that is 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


279 


impossible; tlie North will never permit it. The firing 
upon Sumter was an act of rebellion, we must now compel 
a submission ; it will cost many lives, and much bitterness 
of feeling, but there is 110 alternative.” 

“ Too late, is it,” cried Madeleine springing to her feet, 
"then if it is to be war” — and her widely dilated eyes 
flashed fire — " let it be war, and war to the death, the utter 
extermination of one side or the other, we will never sur- 
render, never! Hugo, join our cause; it is a just one, I 
have influence with President Davis, great influence, you 
little know how much, no woman in America to-day has 
the power I have, I can make you a general in the South- 
ern army. I have great wealth, Hugo, you would not 
dream how much, it is all mine too. Join our cause, and 
you shall share it with me,” and throwing her arms around 
his neck she kissed and caressed him, until his senses were 
bewildered, and he held this wealth of youth and loveli- 
ness in his arms — his own. 

Madeleine's simulation of passion was so perfect that 
Hugo — no wonder — was deceived by it. Her head was 
thrown back, her white arms around his neck, and he felt 
the warm fragrance of her breath in his face, while her 
magnificent hair, loosened in the struggle, came tumbling 
down in a cascade over her head and face as he stooped 
and kissed her with all the fire and ardor of youth's im- 
passioned nature. 

"You are mine, Hugo, mine, are you not?” 

"Yes, dearest, yours, yours alone.” 

"And you will do what I wish ? ” and caressing and 
cajoling, she allowed him to draw her upon his lap. 

"And what is it my darling wishes ? ” asked Hugo, pre- 
tending he had not understood. Madeleine wheeled around, 
faced him, placed a hand on either shoulder and looked 
him in the eyes inquiringly. 

" Promise me you will do what I ask of you, promise me 


280 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


you will join our cause, and all I can give is at your dis- 
posal, promise this and you shall stand high among the 
highest. Is it too much ? Have I offered too little ? Is 
it worth the sacrifice, if such it be ? ” 

Hugo did not answer immediately, he was desperately in 
love. But what was all this demanded of him ? He must 
turn traitor to his country, he must join hands with the 
rebel horde, now attempting to destroy the integrity of 
the Republic ? What should he say ? Perhaps he could 
temporize; Madeleine would listen to reason, he thought. 

How little he knew her! He, a straightforward man, 
she an unscrupulous woman, and a cunning one. 

“ Madeleine,” he said, holding her two hands and speak- 
ing very gravely, "you do not doubt my great love for 
you; consider for one moment what you demand from me. 
I am a Northerner, born in a free State; you ask me to aid 
in perpetuating a vile institution like slavery, you ask me 
to fight against my friends, my neighbors. It is not the 
North which is the aggressor; for years the South has 
domineered over us, in spite of the wealth, the strength, 
the numbers we have, we have submitted to every whim a 
Southern fire-eater in Congress has seen fit to propose. 
Rather than quarrel we have been almost servile in our 
attitude toward the South. We only utterly refused to 
consent to the extension of slavery into new territories, 
until now the South has grown so hold that she has dared 
to pull down the flag of the Union, and declare war. You 
cannot mean that the price of your hand shall be disloy- 
alty! No, Madeleine, say you do not mean that! Ask me 
not to fight against the South and I comply, hut do not, I 
beg of you, demand that I become a miserable turncoat!” 
Hugo paused and almost humbly awaited Madeleine’s re- 
ply. He did not know the nature he had to deal with. 
Heretofore there had only been exhibited to him the pic- 
ture of a beautiful, high-bred woman, at times charming, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


28l 


intellectual, and attractive; at others, distant, cold, and 
Unapproachable. When he had finished his earnest, almost 
pathetic plea, for an independent, manly stand, and even 
yielded his desire to enter the army, Madeleine threw off 
his gentle hold upon her, and standing before him, a look 
of scorn and hatred upon her face he had never dreamed 
to see there, she eyed him a moment impatiently. 

“ So this is final, Mr. Hugo Bernhard, this is my return 
for yielding all maidenly reserve, and offering you what 
the highest and noblest in the land would have thought 
twice before rejecting! I am well repaid for my candor. 
You held me too lightly, Mr. Bernhard! What have you 
to offer for what I can give you ? Nothing, absolutely 
nothing! A pretty person, poverty, and an unknown 
name! You have made a mistake, and so have I. I 
thought I recognized a grand, noble, impassioned nature, 
ready to do to the death for the one he loves! I find a 
narrow, calculating, hypocritical being, afraid to stand up 
and take the hand of the one he professes to love, and 
fight her battles before the world. The love you offer is 
nothing but mawkish sentiment, spirit you have none. I 
said I had made a mistake^ I see I never loved you, I loved 
an ideal, a noble, glorious ideal, Tis well I learned it in 
time; you can go!” — with a wave of the hand in dismissal 
— at the same time she commenced to adjust her hair with 
the utmost unconsciousness of his presence, a thousand 
times more bitter and galling than any words she might 
have spoken. 

As for Hugo, he was dumb, he tried to articulate “ Made- 
leine,” but with a shrug of her shoulders she turned her 
back on him and walked to the window. The very inso- 
lence of this act thoroughly aroused Hugo, the scales fell 
from his eyes, and he saw Madeleine in her true colors. 
One moment he hesitated. Should he go without a word, 
like a whipped cur, or should he assert his manhood ? He 


282 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


chose the latter. Despite his gentleness and his aversion 
to scenes, he felt it clue to himself that he should resent 
the contumely she had heaped upon him. With this in 
mind, he approached her as she held her place at the win- 
dow. 

“ Madeleine, Miss Cateret, you must listen to me/’ he 
said. “We have both made serious mistakes, you, in hav- 
ing encouraged the attentions of a man whom you never 
loved, and whom you would sacrifice to your insane ambi- 
tion and greed for distinction. It is well the truth has 
been told, and separation came before it was too late. I 
have made the mistake of allowing physical perfection to 
outweigh moral endowments in my selection of a wife. I 
have been sharply reminded of my foolish infatuation. 
The services you have sought to win for the South through 
false blandishments, I shall now offer to my country. I 
bid you good-day, Miss Cateret,” and saying this he turned 
on his heel and left the room. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


283 


CHAPTER XXX. 

OFF TO THE WARS. 

The reaction from passionate devotion to a state of de- 
vout thankfulness at the narrow escape he had made, was 
very beneficial to Hugo. With a night’s rest he began a 
new existence. He saw that his blind infatuation had 
warped his judgment. His first impressions in regard to 
Madeleine’s voice had been correct. Doris, with a woman’s 
intuition, had arrived at the same conclusion. Hugo’s 
artistic sense had blunted his reasoning faculties. The 
escape was a narrow one. The sneering tones and cool 
confession Madeleine made to him, were like the shock 
which sometimes returns to its normal equilibrium an un- 
hinged mind. Everything was normal once more, and he 
wondered how he could have been so befogged. To him, 
now, she was a beautiful piece of clay, and inspired no feel- 
ing even of resentment. Of the two, Madeleine suffered 
most. After Hugo left the room, she returned to her seat 
by the table. 

"Fool! fool! you were,” she said to herself, "to encour- 
age such a man, it really looks like Laujac after all — if 
anybody — he at least has brains, and no little qualms of 
conscience to interfere with his ambitions. I did want 
Hugo, though, and could have made something out of him. 
Pah ! I believe, as Heine says, * the world does smell of dried 
violets.’ To think I should have failed so ignominiously ! 
It’s a lesson, not to pin my faith to any man! How for 
Laujac ! I will write an encouraging letter to him,” and 
taking her writing utensils Madeleine inscribed a letter, 


2$4 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


which when read by Laujac caused a faint smile to light 
up his rather heavy face, for the fruit seemed to he ripe, 
and about to fall, and he determined to be on hand to re- 
ceive it. A fortunate series of circumstances enabled him 
to finish his work, and but for Uncle Sam's blockade, he 
would have been at Uew York in a few days. 

Hugo took a sudden resolve, a few days after his scene 
with Madeleine, that he would like to make his father and 
mother a visit. He imparted to Doris his intention, and 
that evening found him in New Haven. 

Folded in his mother's arms, he experienced the emo- 
tions which permeate the world of human feeling, and 
soften and ameliorate the rebuffs the young encounter in 
mixing in the dizzy whirl of life's maelstrom. "After all, 
mother, blood is thicker than water," he remarked, strok- 
ing his mother's cheek, and petting her while his father 
looked on with becoming pride. 

“ Have you just found that out, Hugo ? " laughed his 
mother. “ Your father and I learned the lesson years ago, 
didn't we, father ? " At which remark father Bernhard 
nodded, and by way of emphasizing his concurrence, added : 

“ My dear boy, you must not forget that on my side you 
are of Jewish origin, and I have never ceased to be proud 
of the fact that I am descended from that gifted and most 
persecuted race; and with us, the feeling you have ex- 
pressed to your mother, is keenly felt and acknowledged. 
We have been so isolated in the world, that to a Jew, the 
meeting with one of his own race, is like the meeting with 
one of his own kindred. When one Jew looks in the eyes 
of another, he sees something there he himself cannot de- 
scribe, but which he feels is a blood tie he cannot disre- 
gard, it is the Jewish heart. lie looks there for encourage- 
ment when everything else fails; there is a brotherhood, 
which the most widely diversified interests cannot estrange 
nor efface. For some reasons I do not care to inquire into. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


285 

you have suddenly discovered what it is to have kindred, 
and a home. Encourage this sentiment, Hugo, my son, 
you will find no hearts so ready to unite in your joys, laugh 
when you laugh, or weep when you suffer, as those of your 
own kindred.” 

Th5 tone in which the elder Bernhard delivered this ad- 
monition was so dignified and calm, at the same time so 
proud and lofty were the sentiments he advocated, that 
Hugo was much impressed, and extending his hand to his 
father, he thanked him in a manly fashion for his advice, 
and promised to heed it. The mother drew him aside and 
with the clear intuition the mother’s heart possesses, she 
looked at him a moment and then said : 

"Hugo, dear, is Miss Cateret one of those whose blood is 
no thicker than water?” 

Hugo’s face flushed a little, hut before he could answer 
his mother stopped him. 

"Never mind, my son, I understand it all, and am 
pleased ; after a hit you won’t care ! ” 

"I don’t care now, mother dear; I did, but that is gone 
by, and I am not sore over it. Now let us go to supper,” 
and with his arm around his mother’s waist, he led her into 
the other room. 

" Do you remember, Hugo,” said his father, " the large 
order I got just before you went to New York, for farm 
wagons for some Charlestown parties? Well, they proved 
to be queer farm wagons, they were intended for army 
wagons, for the rebels. I made a nice thing out of the 
contract, and now the Government has contracted for all 
I can make. I am employing twice as many hands as I 
ever employed before, and shall soon be in better circum- 
stances than when you went to Europe. Now, it occurred 
to me, that if you cared to return to perfect your studies, 
I have a few odd thousand dollars I can place at your dis- 
posal without cramping myself in the least, and " 


286 


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“ Father,” broke in Hugo, “ I thank you very much for 
the continued proof of your confidence in me, but I have 
other plans, and I came down to lay them before you and 
mother; I want to raise a company and enter the army! ” 

“ My dear Hugo,” exclaimed his mother, “ you don’t 
mean that. Oh, do not do it, think of our distress, the 
only son we have ! 0 Hugo, do not go,” and Mrs. Bern- 

hard burst into a flood of tears. 

“ I feared this, Hugo,” said his father; “let me advise 
you to take time before deciding. Your presence in the 
army is not necessary, we have plenty of men glad to go; 
you are unused to the hardships of a soldier’s life. Remain 
here this summer, the rebellion may be crushed out, and 
it will he unnecessary for those to go who are unfitted for 
such a life. Suppose your hand were crippled, what would 
become of your art ?” 

The advice seemed good, and his mother so much dis- 
tressed, that for the time Hugo relinquished his project. 
All summer long he spent in his old home, and passed a 
very happy summer. But the war news was not encourag- 
ing for the speedy suppression of the rebellion. Hugo’s 
early friends had all gone, and taking a sudden resolution 
he made application to raise a company, and wrote to 
Harry Richmond, urging him to join him and become his 
first lieutenant. Hugo’s application was granted, and de- 
spite the sorrowful looks of his mother and the grave face 
of his father, he began to recruit his company, which he 
easily filled up, as the Bernhards were well known, and 
many of the men left his father’s employ to go with the 
son. Harry also agreed to join him, and soon came to New 
Haven. He, also, met much opposition at home, Rich- 
mond senior being a pronounced Southerner in feeling; 
but Grace was an enthusiastic Union girl, partly because 
Madeleine Cateret was not. As Hugo was going to the war, 
Grace wanted Harry to go with him, for company, she said, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


287 

"Yes, to be shot together,” suggested Mr. Richmond, 
but Grace was not to be turned from her allegiance, and 
one day, after Harry left for New Haven, she suggested to 
Doris that they both go down and see them off. Somehow 
Grace had come to the conclusion that matters weren’t all 
right between Madeleine and Hugo, and she was deter- 
mined to win him if possible. Impulsive, at times almost 
petulant, there was always about her personality an attrac- 
tiveness difficult to define. When she looked in your face 
you seemed the only person in the world just at that time 
she cared to see. One moment she was coaxing, pleading, 
and the next her eyes were dancing with fun and sparkling 
with mischief. Emotional from the tips of her fingers to 
the crown of her head, she was as sensitive to impressions 
as the distinguished lady who always put at the head of 
her letters the temperature of the air, and the height of 
the barometer. Could one have examined Grace’s desk, 
he would have found Grace Bernhard, Hugo Bernhard, 
written over every available scrap of paper. While wilful 
and childlike in ordinary affairs, she was upon occasions 
womanly and even dignified. 

Hugo and Harry were surprised one evening upon re- 
turning from camp, to find the two blushing girls installed 
at home and ready to worship their soldier heroes, for 
Doris was as ready now to yield up her heart to Harry as 
Grace was to give hers in Hugo’s keeping. 

“ You did not think we intended letting you two boys 
go off without coming down to see you, did you now ? ” 
urged Grace, always rather more forward than Doris. 

“ Why, of course not,” echoed both the young officers — 
how handsome they looked in their uniforms — particularly 
Hugo thought Grace, especially Harry thought Doris. 
Hugo had never heard of Grace’s repulse by Madeleine, 
she had sworn Doris to secrecy, and as Madeleine had 
never mentioned it, that unpleasant episode was unknown 


288 


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to him, consequently there was no embarrassment between 
them. 

• The Connecticut had already been mustered into 

the United States service, and they only awaited marching 
orders which were likely to come any day. It was under- 
stood that they were to form a part of General Butler’s 
New England Division, and their destination was Ship Is- 
land, in the Gulf of Mexico, with the probability that the 
capture of New Orleans was the main object of the expedi- 
tion. 

For a couple of weeks the holiday life they led was de- 
lightful. While they were engaged in camp busy practising 
the “goose step,” with their men, the girls were indefatiga- 
ble in making up all varieties of “ housewives,” pin-cush- 
ions, and toilet necessaries. Hugo declared he could fit 
out the regiment with needles, pins, and thread. Along 
toward sundown the two girls drove out to witness dress 
parade, and after that was over, took their lovers into the 
carriage and brought them back to spend the evening at 
home. 

Sometimes their little trip was varied by the girls riding 
out on horseback, taking their dinner in camp, and then 
together they rode over the old Connecticut hills, and no 
knight of old was more gallant or attentive to the fair 
ladies whose colors they wore, than these manly soldier 
boys whose spurs were yet unwon. The pairing off came 
naturally; between Doris and Harry, the understanding 
was complete, but not so between Hugo and Grace. Night 
after night her head cracked in the effort to conceive some 
plan to make him declare himself. She could not throw 
herself at his feet, although to Doris she admitted she would 
do something startling if he didn’t speak soon. There was 
nothing bold about Grace, she was modesty itself; but her 
wilful, passionate nature was undisciplined. As she was, 
you saw her, free as any bird, and as untrammelled by so- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


289 

ciety’s rulings. Alas! their halcyon days were drawing to 
a close! Orders came for the regiment to march and they 
were taking their last ride together, Hugo unusually seri- 
ous, Grace perplexed and almost in tears. Harry and 
Doris, happy in their frank understanding, had galloped 
ahead through the woods, while the other two, both with 
their hearts filled, moped on behind. Hugo had made up 
his mind to speak, but a little shame that he so soon could 
forget his glorious ideal kept him silent. 

The path they were pursuing was a bridle path, and they 
rode close together on account of the narrowness of the 
way, and the flanking trees. The autumn sun tinged the 
yellow maple and the dark red oaks with glints of its 
golden rays, while the rustle of the falling leaves, and over 
the hill the tingle of the cow bell, was all the sound they 
heard, save the soft, crunching foot-fall of the two horses. 
Grace occasionally snapped viciously at the branches which 
gently flicked her in the face as she pushed through them; 
while Hugo, glum and silent, tried to formulate some phrase, 
which should ease his mind and declare his sentiments 
without seeming fickle and even deceitful to one who knew 
he had loved another. Just then they passed through a 
little clump of beeches, and to Hugo’s surprise Grace’s 
horse suddenly sprang forward in a mad gallop, while she, 
taken by surprise — so it seemed — merely clung to the 
pommel of the saddle and emitted scream after scream. 
It took but an instant for Hugo to dig the spurs into his 
horse’s sides and pursue her, but now she seemed to have 
lost her head, for she made no effort to arrest his headlong 
gallop. The affair began to look serious, for a few rods 
further would bring them to a thick wood with the pros- 
pect of Grace having her brains knocked out against the 
trees, or being thrown with great violence to the ground 
and perhaps dragged to death. Hugo was in an agony of 
terror, for he gained but little upon her, when unexpect- 
!9 


290 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


edly as Grace’s horse had started, he stopped, and Hugo 
dashed up in time to assist her to alight, at the same time 
springing from his own horse. 

“ Why Gracie, dear, what on earth came over that stupid 
beast of yours, to run so ? He frightened me terribly, I 
thought you were gone,” ejaculated Hugo. 

“Indeed, did you, Hugo?” replied Grace with the ut- 
most sang froid, “that is not my way of dying, to make a 
spectacle of myself, I wouldn’t have looked nice all crushed 
up. Confess, now, it would have puzzled you to get me 
home in that state.” 

“ Gracie, Gracie, you awful girl, how ever could you con- 
ceive such a thing ? ” cried Hugo slipping his arm around 
her waist, and well that he did, for the foolish girl had 
carried the thing too far, and her white face and trembling 
limbs compelled Hugo to seat her on the turf. A feeble, 
sickly smile played around her mouth as Hugo kissed her 
hands, and finally grew bolder and drew her head upon his 
shoulder. The color came back gradually, and true to her 
nature, Grace turned on her lover and demanded : 

“ How dare you, Hugo ? Iam not Madeleine Cateret.” 

“ Confound Madeleine Cateret ! Why should she come 
in to interfere between us ? ” 

“J ust what I would like to know, too, Hugo,” exclaimed 
Grace. 

“ Gracie, I’ve been a fool, a stupid, owlish fool, and now 
I see it, don’t speak of that creature to me ” 

“ But I thought you loved her, Hugo ? ” said Grace mis- 
chievously. 

“ So did I, at one time, and now I wonder at it all. But 
Grace, dear, it is all past, I love just one dear, little Grace, 
and never wish to love any one else 

“ Indeed Mr. Hugo, you had better not, let me tell you, 
or” — her mouth was stopped just then and the sentence 
was unfinished. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


291 


That night in bed with Doris, her little head pillowed 
on her shoulder, she told her the whole story, much to 
Doris’s delight and amusement. 

“ But Gracie, how was it your horse ran away so oppor- 
tunely ? I never heard of anything so exactly Apropos.” 

“ W ell, Deris dear/’ said Grace with a little chuckling 
laugh, “ I am afraid I did it. You see I was desperate, so 
I just shoved a beech burr under the saddle flap, and he 
ran, and when he had gone far enough I pushed it out and 
he just stopped ! ” 

“ You little witch, I could have sworn it was something 
like that ! ” 

“Yes, dear, but it took me a long time to think it out,” 
drawled Grace sleepily. 

Morning came, and sadly and tearfully, they took their 
last breakfast together with their soldier lovers. There 
was very little eating done, a few moments alone, and then 
the farewells came. With drums beating and colors flying 
the regiment marched bravely out of camp to the sta- 
tion. “All aboard,” a toot of the whistle and they are off. 
Grace and Doris lingered, waving their handkerchiefs until 
the last moment, and then both broke down and sobbed in 
each other’s arms. 


292 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE UNION GENERAL AND THE JESUIT. 

Many were the hardships Monsieur Laujac encountered 
in his efforts to get through the Union lines. He first 
tried the Gulf, and hired a boatman to row him past the 
fleet; but — with a warning that if he tried it again he 
would be treated as a spy — he was sent back to New Or- 
leans. He next tried the river route, but again he met de- 
feat — being seized by the rebels and almost hung before 
he could convince them he was a Frenchman, who favored 
the Southern cause. Disgusted with his fate, he was per- 
force compelled to await events. It was not until May, ’62, 
when Farragut’s fleet, having subdued the forts — steamed 
gayly up the Mississppi, followed by the Union transports 
filled with soldiers — that the blockade was raised. Even 
then it required a pass, but he hoped to obtain this. Early 
on the 7th of May, a Connecticut regiment marched up 
Canal Street, stacked their arms, and rested while waiting 
for orders. 

Among the curious spectators who lined the streets, 
watching every movement of the Union soldiers, was Mon- 
sieur Laujac. While gazing indifferently at these sturdy 
Union soldiers, he wondered if indeed the North was to 
win in this struggle. If so, this country was no place for 
him. He was somewhat startled to hear Captain Bern- 
hard’s name called, and saw a handsome officer, whom he 
recognized as the artist, leave his company, step forward, 
salute the colonel, and receive an order. 

“ So Monsieur Bernhard, you are here, are you, and a 
soldier, then I need not hasten so much.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


293 


That evening Hugo received a call at his quarters from 
Monsieur Laujac, whom he received politely, if not cordially. 

“ Rather an odd transformation, Captain Bernhard, is it 
not, from the petted artist of New York society to the 
captaincy of a company of soldiers in the field, eh ? ” in- 
quired Monsieur Laujac. 

“ Not so odd in a Republic like ours, Monsieur Laujac, 
where every able-bodied man holds himself in readiness to 
serve his country in her need/’ replied Hugo pleasantly. 
“But how long have you been in the South, Monsieur 
Laujac ? ” 

“ Much longer than I wished. I have tried again and 
again to get through the lines, and hitherto failed. If the 
Commanding-General will give me a pass, I shall be only 
too glad to get away. I can, by the way, deliver any letters 
or messages you wish, to your friends in New York. Possi- 
bly you might aid me in obtaining a pass, if you would be 
good enough to write a line which I may bear to General 
Butler.” Seeing nothing out of the way in this request, 
Hugo wrote a note introducing Monsieur Laujac as an old 
acquaintance from New York. Having inquired after 
many mutual friends, among them Miss Cateret, Monsieur 
Laujac bade Hugo good-evening, promising to see him 
before he went North. 

The next morning Monsieur Laujac appeared at the St. 
Charles Hotel — General Butler’s Headquarters — and sent 
up his note of introduction. After an hour of waiting 
an orderly conducted him into the presence of the General. 
Monsieur Laujac saw before him, seated at a desk, a short, 
thick-set man, in the uniform of a Major-General of the 
Union army. Hat in hand he awaited his pleasure — for 
the General was just then engaged in writing. He did not 
wait long. Dropping his pen, the General swung around 
in his office chair. He was a heavy-faced man, apparently 
about forty-five years of age. One eye, the left, had a pe- 


294 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


culiar droop of the lid which partially concealed it; the 
other, however, was of the gimlet order, and self-possessed 
as Monsieur Laujac was, he felt uneasy under its acute 
scrutiny. 

“Your name is Laujac, is it?” asked the General 
abruptly. 

Monsieur Laujac bowed and replied : 

“At your service, Monsieur le General.” 

“Sit down there,” came next from the General, pointing 
to a chair placed directly in front of him — which Monsieur 
Laujac discovered, when he tried to move it, was attached 
— by a rope tied to one leg — to the desk. 

“Who are you, and what are you doing in New Orleans, 
Monsieur Laujac ? ” inquired the General brusquely. 

“I am a Frenchman, General, travelling for pleasure. 1 
came South before the breaking out of the war, and have 
been unable to get back North. I have been in New Or- 
leans for six months, but neither your party nor the rebels 
would permit me to pass the lines.” 

“ Well, what do you wish of me ? ” 

“A pass, General, to enable me to go North without mo- 
lestation.” 

“What do you want of a pass, if you are going North, 
Monsieur Laujac?” inquired the General somewhat sus- 
piciously. 

“If I could go on a steamer I might not need one, but 
I must make my way as best I can; it is necessary for me 
to be in New York as soon as possible.” 

“I thought you were travelling for pleasure. Why is 
it necessary for you to be in New York ? ” asked the Gen- 
eral. 

“ I have business there. General, before I sail for France, 
and it must be immediately attended to,” responded Mon- 
sieur Laujac in an unruffled tone. 

The General eyed his visitor keenly for a moment, but 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


2 9 5 

the face of the Jesuit was as impassive as a marble statue. 

“ I am not entirely satisfied with your replies, Monsieur 
Laujac. Your appearance is more like that of a church- 
man than a traveller for pleasure. I could almost swear 
you wore a hair shirt under that conventional garb, but 
you can have the pass, since Captain Bernhard knows you. 
Here, take this to my Adjutant-General, he will fix it for 
you; ” and he tossed a scrap of paper to Monsieur Laujac, 
who picked it up and expressed his thanks. Safely out of 
the room he drew a long breath. 

“A devil of a man, that fellow,” he muttered as the door 
closed behind him, “ I believe he suspects me; I’ll get that 
pass signed, and leave as soon as possible, and without 
Captain Bernhard’s letters or messages, too.” The next 
morning Captain Bernhard was surprised at a summons 
to call at headquarters. 

“ Who was that fellow, Captain Bernhard ? How long 
have you known him ? ” 

In reply Hugo told him all he knew about Monsieur 
Laujac. 

“ Met him at the Richmonds with Miss Cateret, did you ? 
that explains it, that explains it, that man is either a spy 
or a Southern sympathizer. The Richmonds are South- 
erners and so is Miss Cateret, who is the most dangerous 
woman in New York to-day. She is the organizer of a 
league or circle called the ‘ Order of the Southern Cross/ a 
secession order, I have heard of her before. She is always 
under surveillance, and Stanton will arrest her on the first 
opportunity. If I am not mistaken that man is an agent 
of the Catholic sympathizers in Europe; he has the marks 
of a priest which are unmistakable and I should have de- 
tained him. If he has not given us the slip, you must 
arrest him, and bring him before me again, although I fear 
we are too late; he is not the man to linger, and I saw he 
felt my suspicions. Take half a dozen men and scour the 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


296 

city. If possible capture him, Captain Bernhard; now lose 
no time.” 

Thus urged Captain Bernhard did not lag in his duty, 
but all search proved unavailing, and the next day he was 
obliged to report that Monsieur Laujac could not be found. 

What had become of Monsieur Laujac all this time ? It 
was very simple. He took the scrap of paper General 
Butler handed him — which proved to be an order on the 
Adjutant-General to issue a pass— the pass was immedi- 
ately made out. Once in possession of it, he hastened to 
his room, destroyed all his papers, secreted all his money 
on his person and took the train for Lake-end, or the New 
Basin as it was called, about ten miles from the city. His 
expectation was to make his way to Ft. Pike on some sail- 
ing vessel, and thence into the Gulf of Mexico, where he 
hoped to find some vessel or steamer going North. When 
he arrived at the New Basin, he found a company of 
United States soldiers there and no vessel was allowed to 
sail without a custom-house permit. Strolling along the 
pier he observed a small yacht proudly riding at anchor a 
half mile out. Upon greeting the sentry, wiio was sta- 
tioned on the wharf, he learned that this yacht was em- 
ployed by the Government to patrol Lake Pontchartrain 
and intercepted all vessels coming or going, suspected of 
carrying contraband goods. He also learned that a ser- 
geant and half a dozen soldier seamen, manned fhe craft. 
“ There is the sergeant now,” said the commandant guard, 
as a slender-looking young man with three stripes upon 
the sleeve of his coat, came walking down the wharf. Mon- 
sieur Laujac seated himself upon a pile of hard-wood boxes, 
and lighted a cigar. The young sergeant came slowly 
along toward the end of the wharf and addressed the sentry. 

“ Has Harvey gone on board, Joe ? ” he inquired. 

“I don’t think he has come down yet, sergeant,” replied 
the guard, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


297 


“ Looks like a blow to-niglit, Joe, and we ought to be 
down at f Little River,” before dark.” Monsieur Laujac 
listened to this talk and made up his mind to go along if 
he could persuade the sergeant to take him. 

“A handsome yacht you have there, sergeant,” he re- 
marked, “ she looks speedy, too.” 

“ There is nothing on the Lake can run away from her 
in a good breeze,” said the young officer turning toward 
the speaker. 

“ I’d like to go out duck shooting in her over to Pass 
Manchac,” suggested Monsieur Laujac. 

“ Yes, and get a bullet under your skin, my friend,” re- 
plied the sergeant facetiously, and then he continued, 
“ there is better sport and less danger at ‘ Irish Bayou.’ ” 

“ Manchac or Irish Bayou, it’s all the same to me, if there 
are ducks. How would you like a passenger, sergeant ?” 

“ Sorry, we don’t take passengers, sir,” replied the ser- 
geant, apparently a little wary. 

“ Oh, well, it’s all the same. I’ll find some boat to take 
me there.” 

“ Couldn’t let you go without a pass, that’s the order, 
sir,” replied the sergeant decidedly. 

“ Oh, as for that, I have a pass. When I told the Gen- 
eral I wanted to go 4 duck shooting,’ he sent me one di- 
rectly,” replied Monsieur Laujac indifferently. 

“ Smoke, sergeant,” he inquired, pulling out some fine 
cigars. The sergeant did love a fine cigar, and especially 
when given him by a friend of General Butler. 

“ Got your pass in your pocket ? ” he asked immediately, 
as he lighted the cigar. 

“ I believe so, unless I left it at Boudro’s — stop, here it 
is,” and he handed it to the sergeant. 

“ This seems to be all right. Where is your gun, at the 
Hotel?” 

“No, I left it in town, not thinking of going to-day; 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


298 

would I have time to run in and get it ? ” The sergeant 
shook his head. 

“ I’m afraid not. Wait a moment, here comes my sailing 
master. Hello, Harvey, think it’s going to blow ? ” 

The old sailor, now a Union soldier, scanned the horizon 
and shook his head. 

“We’ll have a ‘Norther’ before night, sergeant, sure; if 
we are going to 4 Little River,’ we had better up anchor and 
start, or we’ll have it in our teeth.” 

“ That’s too bad, sergeant, I would like a trip with you,” 
said Monsieur Laujac rather disconsolately. 

“Well, if you would like to go, I’ll tell you what you 
can do, I’ll give you my rifle, and you can pop at the loons, 
how does that suit you ? ” 

“ Capital, sergeant, when do you come back ? ” 

“Perhaps to-morrow, perhaps next day. How shall I 
call you, by the way ? ” 

“ My name is Laujac, sergeant, you saw the pass.” 

“ To be sure, well. Monsieur Laujac, if you wish to go, 
get anything you wish, we shall sail in half an hour, the 
boat will be here, but you must be on hand.” So saying 
the youthful sergeant pulled out his pocket handkerchief 
and weaved it, receiving an answering signal from the little 
yacht. 

Monsieur Laujac retraced his steps to Boudro’s restau- 
rant, and ordered an immense lunch basket filled with the 
best the place afforded, not forgetting half a dozen battles 
of whiskey. When he again made his appearance upon 
the wharf he found them impatiently waiting, for although 
only a slight breeze was blowing, it looked squally in the 
northwest. 

“ Hurry up, Monsieur Laujac. Bob, help him with that 
basket. ‘All aboard,’ pull away men,” and Monsieur Lau- 
jac found himself fairly on his way to the yacht, while 
General Butler was speculating as to who he was, and pre- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


299 


paring to send word to Captain Bernhard. No wonder the 
Captain did not find him ! A few minutes brought them 
alongside of the yacht, and the sergeant showed him into 
the cabin, which he found quite roomy, with two berths, 
one of which the sergeant placed at his disposal. 

In ten minutes they were under way, with the mainsail, 
foresail and jib set, and slipping along at a good rate in 
the light air, toward the lower end of the lake. The Reine 
Hortense , the name of the yacht, was a very handsomely 
finished pleasure boat, and the crew — a half dozen old 
Maine fishermen — understood the handling of her per- 
fectly. For an hour or two Monsieur Laujac enjoyed 
himself, as he had not done for many a day. He found 
the young sergeant a good type of the non-commissioned 
officer in the Union service, intelligent, fairly well read, 
and something of a French scholar. With the adroitness 
of a man of the world he flattered and entertained his host, 
until they became quite friendly. While sitting in the 
cabin discoursing some of the late French authors, and 
sipping a glass of grog, they heard considerable noise on 
deck. Upon putting their heads out of the companion- 
way, they saw that a stiff breeze was blowing, and Captain 
Harvey was shortening sail. The wind gradually shifted 
until it blew directly in their teeth. For three hours they 
breasted the storm before they got offing enough to run 
before it. From stem to stern the little craft was washed 
by the waves, and to Monsieur Laujac it seemed they 
were in some danger; but the sergeant reassured him. 

“Hang on to the jib, Bob, hard up the helm, Norton, 
round she comes! look out for the boom, let go the jib, 
ease off that mainsail,” and quickly answering her helm, 
the yacht swung round and with mainsail and foresail 
again hoisted, winged out, they ran before the gale. All 
was now smooth sailing, for they were running before the 
wind, and in half an hour they were at anchor in Irish 


300 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Bayou. A little tired with their sharp work, more or less 
wet, but all ready — when Jarvis, the little Canadian French 
cook, announced that supper was served — to give it proper 
attention. The “ Norther ” gradually blew itself out, and 
the lake became calm again. The evening was delightful, 
Monsieur Laujac made himself exceedingly agreeable, and 
if the truth be told, encouraged more conviviality than a 
priest should. The result was that by ten o’clock all were 
in a drowsy mood, and when at midnight a man popped 
his head out of the companion-way the deck was deserted 
by the watch, or he was fast asleep. Quietly this man 
sneaked along to the side of the yacht and dropped into 
the pirogue , a small boat fastened there, and paddled softly 
into the lake. 

By morning he pulled up at Ft. Pike, showed his pass, 
secured the services of a boatman with a small sail boat, 
and before Seregant W. was awakened for breakfast, his 
guest was bounding over the waves in the Gulf and by 
night was safely aboard a sailing vessel which took him to 
Havana, whence he sailed in the next steamer for New 
York. 


Not to The swift. 


301 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

MADELEINE MAKES A DISCOVERY. 

After the episode in which Madeleine so contemptu- 
ously dismissed Hugo, her nature seemed to change. She 
become more unstable and bitter than ever against the 
North. Madame Malet was sent away on some trivial pre- 
text at a moment’s notice. Mr. Wheelock was established 
as her secretary, and faithfully fulfilled his duties. One 
afternoon — the very day before Monsieur Laujac’s return 
— Madeleine was in the library dictating a letter in cipher 
to Wheelock. Although she employed him, he did not 
comprehend the nature of the business upon which he 
was engaged. A piece of blotting paper was needed. 

"Wait a moment, Wheelock, I think I have some in my 
portfolio,” said Madeleine; " yes, here is a piece,” taking out 
a large blotter. It was perfectly clean, save some hold marks 
in the centre of one side. The marks looked strange, hut 
turn it which way she would they were illegible. Suddenly 
a thought entered her mind. She walked to the large pier 
glass, held the blotter up to it, and instantly read the fol- 
lowing address : General Peter Johannes Beckx, S. J., Rome, 
Italy. She recognized the hand at once, it was Laujac’s. 
How did it come there ? Madeleine beat her little fist im- 
patiently against her forehead, seeking the solution. Yes, 
now she remembered; one day when he called at the house 
in Washington Square, while waiting for her, he had begged 
permission to write a letter, and she had seen him blot it. 
" Who was General Beckx ? ” Although, as we know, Made- 


302 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Line had been educated at a convent supervised by the 
Jesuits, she knew nothing of the order, not even knowing 
there was a General. The instruction for girls was not of 
that nature which could inform her. 

“ Wheelock, who is General Beckx ? ” 

“ I don’t know. Miss Cateret, I never heard the name, 
perhaps he is some confederate general,” replied Wheelock. 

“No, I think not,” said Madeleine meditatively, “but 
never mind now, we will go on with the letter if it is dry; 
I can’t use this blotter.” 

All that day Madeleine pondered over the address, and 
the next morning she ordered her carriage and drove to 
the New York Hotel to find Dr. Maginn, thinking he 
might inform her. Dr. Maginn was absent. After a mo- 
ment’s hesitation she decided to go to the Astor Library 
and see Dr. Cogswell ; he would know. She did so, and 
introduced herself to the learned doctor, whom she had 
met once before. Upon stating her errand, he answered 
immediately : 

“ General Beckx ? Why, he is the General of the Jesuits; 
if you will wait one moment I can give you more accurate 
information.” 

While the doctor was looking up his authorities, Made- 
leine mused over the situation. 

“Are the Jesuits then interested in this war ? It must 
be!” Just then Dr. Cogswell returned. 

“ General Beckx, it seems,” he said, in a didactic tone, 
reading from a large book he carried, “is the twenty- 
second General of the ‘ Order of Jesus/ Ignatius Loyola 
being the first,” then slapping the book together, he com- 
menced with the avidity of an old bibliophile when he 
finds a patient listener : “ Wonderful order that, a perfect 
military despotism, it is not at all like a monastic order, it 
is spread over the whole world, even here in America. A 
year or so ago, I remember, one of them visited the library, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 303 

a very learned man, Beaujac, or Maujac, I think he called 
himself.” 

“ Laujac, perhaps,” suggested Madeleine. 

“ Really, that sounds like it ; did you know him ? A 
wonderfully learned fellow, a pupil of Dibdin’s” — who 
Dibdin was, Madeleine did not know or care — “ I think I 
have his card yet. He has published a very interesting 
book.” 

“ He is very learned, no doubt, doctor, but do you think 
you could find that card of Mr. Laujac ? I am curious to 
see if it is the gentleman I mean.” 

“Certainly, certainly. Miss Cateret, I think I have it 
still.” 

Again Madeleine was left alone, but only for a short 
time. The doctor returned with a card which he handed 
her; “you were right,” he said, “ it is Laujac.” Madeleine 
took the card and read to her amazement, “Rev. Pierre 
Laujac.” With great difficulty she controlled her feelings 
sufficiently to enable her to beg the card of Dr. Cogswell, 
who granted her request instantly. 

Bidding the librarian good-morning, Madeleine entered 
her carriage and drove directly home. 

“ So, Monsieur Pierre Laujac is Rev. Pierre Laujac, and 
my promised husband ! I wonder what his object is, my 
money probably,” soliloquized Madeleine, “fortunate in- 
deed, that I discovered this in time. The world is full of 
surprises, and I have had my share recently.” There was 
yet another in store for her, and a still greater one; for 
when she reached home she found in the library Monsieur 
Pierre Laujac in person, very comfortable, very compla- 
cent, and exceedingly glad to see her. 

“ My dear Madeleine,” he cried, coming forward to greet 
her, but something in her face arrested his impulsive ac- 
tion; he hesitated, dropped the hand he held outstretched, 
but unnoticed. 


304 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


"Hem! I can’t say, Madeleine, your manner is friendly 
toward one who has gone through what I have, since I 
last saw you ! You received my letter ? ” — for the thought 
flashed through his mind she was piqued that he had not 
written of tener — " I wrote every week, but only received 
two letters from you.” 

" You may have written every week, but not to me, mon- 
sieur,” replied Madeleine haughtily. " If you will excuse 
me I will remove my wraps before I talk with you,” and 
bowing slightly, she left the room. Rushing up -stairs she 
wrote a telegram, and ringing for the butler delivered it 
to him, then she sat down and waited; a half-hour passed 
before she entered the library. Meanwhile Monsieur Lau- 
jac paced up and down the room, puzzling his head to in- 
vent reasons for Madeleine’s strange demeanor. 

" What the deuce can it all mean ? Some woman’s freak, 
but wait a bit, my lady, how nicely I’ll repay you for keep- 
ing me kicking my heels here at your pleasure ! ” And 
the look in his eyes was not a pleasant one to behold, for at 
heart, this polished gentleman was hard, stern, and tyran- 
nical, aside from the fact that he had no conscience. 

"Well, Monsieur Laujac,” were Madeleine’s first words 
upon entering the library, " I have kept you waiting! ” 

" It seems so, but lovers are proverbially illy treated by 
their mistresses. I am at your service now, however, al- 
though my reception has hardly been a joyous one.” While 
his language indicated inward discontent, outwardly he 
was bland and smiling. 

Madeleine took a seat at some distance from her lover. 
"Joyous receptions are usually accorded to faithful, and 
not faithless lovers, monsieur,” replied Madeleine coldly. 

" My dear child, I am not good at solving riddles, even 
though put by a charming young lady; will you kindly 
explain this enigma ? ” And Monsieur Laujac interlaced 
his fingers and dropped his hands into his lap. Madeleine 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


305 


reached over and touched the bell, an icicle conld not be 
more frigid than her manner. As she surveyed her faith- 
less lover, she gently elevated her eyebrows and her deli- 
cately booted foot just tapped the floor impatiently. Haw- 
kins answered the bell. 

“ Hawkins, will you please hand Monsieur Lau jac this 
card ? " and Madeleine dropped a card upon the table 
which the butler placed upon his salver and tendered with 
the most imperturbable countenance to Monsieur Laujac. 

“ You can go, Hawkins." The butler retired. Monsieur 
took the card with the tips of his fingers. Madeleine 
looked at him and he at her. A sneer curled her lips, and 
her nostrils quivered. “ Now I have you," she thought. 
Vain hope! The contest was unequal — he slipped through 
the net like an eel. 

As he looked at the card, frankness and candor was 
marked on every feature; this was suddenly followed by a 
look of pain. 

“ Madeleine, how could you think so evil of me as you 
evidently have done ? What does this card signify ? You 
know I am here on a special mission from the French 
Government. I have been mistaken often for an actor, 
and sometimes for a priest; it occurred to me to adopt 
the guise of a priest, and I had these cards printed, after 
I arrived in New York. I changed my mind, and doffed 
my priestly garb. How you obtained this card I cannot 
conceive, as I thought I had destroyed them all. Why are 
you so suspicious, and why have you pained me so unnec- 
essarily, Madeleine ? " 

Madeleine’s mind, as she listened to the Jesuit, was filled 
with conflicting emotions. She wished to believe him, 
but her disposition forbade the exhibition of candor. The 
fact was, her moral nature was of a low type. With all 
her beauty of face and form, her character partook of the 
nature of the feline tribe. If she desired to believe, it was 
20 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


306 

because she had designs she wished to forward, not because 
she wished to see her friend clear himself of criminal du- 
plicity. As Monsieur Laujac finished speaking, he care- 
fully scanned Madeleine's countenance, and the analysis 
was apparently favorable, for he stepped forward and at- 
tempted to take her hand. 

“ Not yet, not yet, my dear Monsieur Laujac, there is 
something more to be explained," and reaching for her 
portfolio, Madeleine handed him the blotter. Laujac took 
it, looked at it and then at Madeleine. 

"Well, my dear girl, what do these hieroglyphics mean, 
is this some cipher ? " 

"Hold it up to that glass, if you please. Monsieur." 
Monsieur Laujac did as requested, and read his own hand- 
writing. The instant he did so he burst into a loud 
laugh. 

" Madeleine ! you have missed your vocation, you should 
have been a female detective; how can a poor ignorant fly 
like me hope to escape from your net ? You intended to 
ask if that is my handwriting; most assuredly it is," tear- 
ing it up as he spoke — " forgive me, but that was neces- 
sary. Did you ever hear of the * gentlemen of the short 
frock?’ I am one of them. In fact my mission is one 
connected with the order. It is the aim of his Holiness to 
keep well informed of the affairs of his flock in America, 
and I am commissioned to report to General Beckx all 
that can be of service to his Holiness. Now, you distrust- 
ful girl, is that all, or have you some other fearful secret I 
must explain," — just then Hawkins tapped at the door. 

"A gentleman to s’ee Miss Oateret in the reception room," 
he said. 

" My dear friend, will you excuse me one moment, I 
assure you I will not keep you waiting as I did before," 
remarked Madeleine. Monsieur Laujac bowed his head 
gravely; he saw he had regained his prestige. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 307 

When Madeleine entered the reception room she found 
there a young lieutenant. 

" Miss Cateret ? ” he inquired. 

“ I am Miss Cateret. I presume you came in answer to 
my telegram, do take a seat, lieutenant. The fact is, I 
find I have made a mistake; you see we Northern girls are 
as enthusiastic patriots as you gentlemen, and I thought I 
had a clue to a Southern spy, but he turned out to be a 
humble missionary. You must make my apologies, but I 
was so eager to help; will you not take a glass of wine, 
lieutenant ?” Ringing for Hawkins, she ordered a decan- 
ter of sherry to he placed on the table. 

“ Did you bring any men with you ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, I have a couple outside,” replied the officer. 

“ Dear me, that is too bad. Hawkins fill the lieutenant’s 
glass again, and bring some cigars. Would you mind di- 
viding a box between them, Lieutenant ? ” 

“ No! thanks.” 

" Hawkins, wrap up that box nicely for Lieutenant — ” 

“ Grey, madam ” — 

“ For Lieutenant Grey.” 

Lieutenant Grey saw that he must go, although he would 
have liked to linger. 

“ Miss Cateret, will you not drink one glass with me ? 
I’ll give you a toast, f confusion to our enemies.’ ” 

"Most willingly I drink that toast, f confusion to our 
enemies/ ” When the lieutenant got outside he called to 
his men. 

“ Some mistake made, boys, there’s no arrest. I got a 
cigar for you out of it, though,” giving them one apiece 
from his pocket, the box he carried to his own quarters. 
When Madeleine returned to Monsieur Laujac she put 
out both her hands to him, “ I have just saved you from 
an unpleasant experience, my friend,” she said smil- 


308 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ Indeed, more unpleasant experiences to-day would de- 
moralize me. From what have you saved me, pray ? ” 

“ From arrest, Monsieur Pierre Laujac, now Fll make a 
confession. When I kept you waiting, I sent a telegram 
to the Provost Marshal telling him there was a Southern 
spy here. You see I am a dangerous woman to trifle with, 
monsieur. When I went into the reception room I found 
a lieutenant, and outside were two men to take you into 
custody. I have sent the officer away with a glass or two 
of wine to soothe any annoyance.” 

“ Why, my Madeleine, what a little fury you can become, 
and so you would have had me arrested on suspicion that 
I had deceive you ? You are too impulsive, my dear girl! 
By the way, did you mention my name ? ” 

"Oh, no, I simply telegraphed I had a Southern spy 
here,” laughed Madeleine. 

“ You naughty girl, and would you have had me immured 
in some dark prison, on suspicion that I had wronged you ? 
Madeleine! Madeleine! Iam afraid you are vindictive,” 
and Monsieur Laujac's face took on a grave expression. 

“ My poor Pierre, how badly I have treated you ! Don't 
blame me — I was furious at you, I admit, but it is all right 
now, and you must stay and dine with us; papa will be so 
glad to see you!” And Madeleine put on her sweetest 
smile as she thrust her arm through his, and looked up 
into his face. 

“ You are sure I shall not be interrupted by the Provost- 
Marshal while I dine, Madeleine ? Excitement ruins di- 
gestion, you know.” 

“ Oh, I will guarantee you immunity from arrest. Mon- 
sieur,” laughed Madeleine. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


309 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

DH. MAGINN TRANSMITS A WARNING AND IMPOSES A 
COMMAND. 

Rare is the man in whose heart there does not exist a 
tender spot for his first love. He may have been ill treated, 
rejected, scorned, or on the other hand, he may have for- 
saken the one who first aroused love’s tender passion. Still 
there lingers a spark which smoulders, almost dead it 
seems, and no wind that blows can rekindle it into the 
living flame it was, and yet the glimmer is there; and only 
ceases its feeble glow, when conscious man becomes uncon- 
scious earth. Like the faint gleam which yet comes to us 
from one of those far-away stars, whose fires were ages ago 
extinguished, so this fading flicker of light seems to revive 
in us passion’s fires; and recollection warms the long hid- 
den embers to a semblance of flame. 

When Hugo learned from General Butler that Made- 
leine Cateret was suspected of being a rabid secessionist, 
his first thought was to convey to her a warning. His 
search for Laujac proved unavailing, as we have seen, and 
then he remembered Madeleine’s peril. Not liking to write 
directly to her, he addressed Dr. Maginn, and briefly told 
him that, knowing him to be a friend of Miss Cateret’s, 
he took the liberty of writing him on a matter of great 
personal interest to the young lady, which was, that she 
was suspected of furnishing information to the Southern 
leaders; and furthermore, if her arrest had not been already 
ordered, it would soon be. When the doctor received this 


3io 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


letter, he hastened immediately to present the information 
thus obtained to Miss Cateret, and arrived at the house 
while the family were at dinner. 

Perfectly familiar with the ways of the household, he 
would have preferred waiting in the library, but the case 
was too urgent, and hastily writing a line, begging Made- 
leine to see him immediately, he gave Hawkins the card, 
and dropping into an easy chair became immersed in 
thought. 

When the card was placed before her, Madeleine glanced 
at it, laid it down near her plate and resumed, for the mo- 
ment, her conversation with Monsieur Laujac. Mr. Cateret, 
who was exceedingly curious, fidgeted in his chair a while, 
looked at Madeleine, and suddenly blurted out, “ who is 
it, Maddy?" But Madeleine continued her conversation. 
They were speaking of Monsieur Laujac's escape from 
New Orleans; he had just finished telling her of meeting 
Captain Bernhard, and his interview with General Butler. 

“A very brusque man. Miss Cateret, but a very able one. 
if I am any judge of men. I regret he is not with us, an 
old friend of President Davis, too, he would make a splen- 
did adviser. I am inclined to think I got away in the 
nick of time, before my pass was revoked ; he seemed to 
fancy I had some business in the South other than as a 
traveller. I don't recollect when I have been so adroitly 
questioned. You can't imagine the motto he has hung 
on the wall of his office ! f There is no difference between 
the He and She adder in venom.' " 

"Ah, the tyrant ! " exclaimed Madeleine, “ but, if it be 
as you think, why may not the danger extend to New 
York ? If he really thought you were not all you repre- 
sented yourself to be, would it be strange if he reported 
the fact at Washington ? The Government is a very arbi- 
trary one just now," said Madeleine rather suggestively. 

“ True, Miss Madeleine, you may be right, but I prefer 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


311 


to take my chances here; we have a minister here, and I 
should appeal to him for protection.” Madeleine smiled. 

“ I have heard that Mr. Stanton puts foreign ministers 
aside a good deal as you would a fly which annoyed you. 
Monsieur Laujac. And now will you excuse me a mo- 
ment ? I will step into the library, where I have a visitor.” 
Before Madeleine could prevent it, Monsieur Laujac arose 
and opened the door for her, bowing courteously as she 
passed him, and with a quick glance he recognized Dr. 
Maginn; the door was closed, and he resumed his seat. 

“ Now, Maddy is gone, my dear Monsieur Laujac, we will 
have up a fresh bottle, and, Hawkins, bring that small box 
of cigars,” said Mr. Cateret. “ Nothing like a fine old Bur- 
gundy to aid digestion, monsieur, eh ? They say f wine is 
the milk of old people/ and I am getting on in life, sixty 
next birthday, but bless you, I never felt younger.” 

“ Indeed, you do seem a man ‘ born for digestion/ my 
dear Cateret,” replied Monsieur Laujac. Which question- 
able compliment Mr. Cateret accepted with the compla- 
cency of one entitled to the cordon bleu . 

“ Quite right, monsieur, quite right,” he responded ex- 
pansively, holding up his glass to the light, and critically 
viewing the ruby tint of the wine. “ When a man passes 
forty, he learns to treat his stomach with discrimination. 
Perhaps I have made rather a study of the art of dining; 
it has been a lost art in America.” 

“And you propose to revive it ? A laudable ambition, 
permit me to say,” answered Monsieur Laujac, repressing 
a slight yawn ; for Mr. Caterers propensity to feed was dis- 
tasteful to his cultivated mind. By this time Madeleine’s 
father had disposed of several glasses of w 7 ine, and was in- 
clined to be communicative. “You can go, Hawkins, we 
shan’t need you, if we do I will ring,” he said to the butler, 
who disappeared instantly. 

“ I don’t mind telling you, my dear Laujac, that perfect 


312 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


ease, financially, is necessary to enable a man to enjoy his 
table. I have made some good strokes in my day, and now 
I can rest and take life easy. You are getting on, too, my 
dear fellow, crowding fifty, eh ? Wonder you never mar- 
ried?” Monsieur Laujac winced when Mr. Cateret so 
bluntly hinted at his age. 

“ I have not made my stroke yet, Mr. Cateret, and there- 
fore cannot take life as easily as you can,” answered Mon- 
sieur Laujac dryly. 

Before Mr. Cateret could reply, Madeleine returned and 
mentioned that Dr. Maginn was in the library. Monsieur 
Laujac noticed that her face was rather pale, and her lips 
compressed; he read there determination and defiance. 
As they entered the library Dr. Maginn greeted Monsieur 
Laujac effusively. 

“ Glad to see you are back, my dear friend,” as both of 
his hands clasped Monsieur Lau jac’s, “ you have no doubt 
had a rough time of it, since we saw you last, but your 
mission has been approved at home; you have that satis- 
faction ! ” 

Monsieur Laujac replied without apparently noticing 
Dr. Maginn’s reference to the approval with which his 
work had been received “ at home.” 

“ The South is a beautiful country, my dear doctor, in 
time of peace, but in a state of war it is beastly, and I am 
glad I am back in New York.” 

Madeleine had meanwhile left the room, beckoning her 
father to accompany her. 

“ Papa, I must leave home for a while,” she said, facing 
him, as they returned to the dining-room. “ Let every- 
thing go on here as it does now, you have all the money 
you need; if any one comes to inquire for me tell him you 
do not know where I am, that I have left the city. I shall 
send you no word about my return. My absence may be 
brief, and it may not.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 3 1 3 

"But Maddy, you don’t mean to leave me in this hasty 
way, really I must protest, my child ” 

“ Come, come, papa, this assertion of paternal authority 
would be amusing, if I had time to enjoy it, but do exactly 
what I have told you. If any one comes, I am out of town 
for an indefinite time. Now, be a good boy and don’t in- 
terrupt Dr. Maginn and Monsieur Laujac, as they have 
matters of importance to discuss,” and kissing her father 
lightly on the forehead, Madeleine sought her room, packed 
a few things into a bag, and passing out the rear door to 
her carriage, she entered and ordered the coachman to 
drive to the Fifth Avenue Hotel. Dismissing him there, 
she ordered him to return and take Dr. Maginn and Mon- 
sieur Laujac to their hotels. Before he had turned the 
corner she had engaged a public carriage, and was driven 
rapidly to Archbishop Hughes’ residence. She rang the 
bell, and after some hesitation was admitted and ushered 
into a common reception room. Here she waited impa- 
tiently for half an hour, when the venerable Archbishop 
appeared. Madeleine was heavily veiled, and he failed to 
recognize her. Rather sternly he demanded her business 
with him. Madeleine threw up her veil. “ Miss Cateret ! 
what has brought you out to-niglit, and here ? ” Made- 
leine hastily explained that Dr. Maginn had suggested it, 
and she looked to him to put her in a safe place, until it 
could be ascertained what action the Government would 
take with regard to her. 

“ This is a very serious matter. Miss Cateret, and you 
may be compelled to keep in retirement for a considerable 
time; but pray come into my study, we can talk more at 
our ease.” And he led the way to his study. 

The discussion was a long one. Many plans were pro- 
posed, but none suited Madeleine, until Archbishop Hughes 
suggested giving her a note to the Superior of the Convent 
at Georgetown. The idea struck Madeleine’s bold spirit 


3H 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


ms the most feasible plan, and when she left the Archbish- 
op’s palace, she was driven directly to the midnight train 
for Washington, and early the next morning appeared at 
the Convent of the Visitation at Georgetown, where her 
note from Archbishop Hughes obtained for her a most 
cordial welcome. 

Let us now return to the library of Madeleine’s house. 
Papa Cateret sputtered a little, at the off-hand way in 
which his daughter had put him aside; but as the two 
gentlemen were busily engaged in talking in the library, 
there was no one to condole with him. So he lighted a 
fresh cigar and bade Hawkins take a decanter of brandy 
to his room, and there he smoked and sipped his diluted 
brandy and water — for he was not an intemperate man — 
until he was aroused after midnight, from a comfortable 
doze, by the closing of the outside door; he heard a car- 
riage door close, the clatter of hoofs, and then drowsily 
muttering at the lateness of the hour, sought his bed. 

While the seductive fumes of the V. S. 0. P. Otard were 
finding their way through the brain of the jovial Mr. Cate- 
ret in his up-stairs den, in the library a bit of high comedy 
was being enacted, and the two artists engaged in the im- 
personation, certainly possessed a high order of merit. 
The doctor had arranged with Madeleine that they should 
have no interruption. 

“And so you had a rough time of it, my dear Laujac; 
you came home unexpectedly, did you not ? ” inquired the 
doctor. 

“I cannot say I had an agreeable time, certainly. Yes, 
I did leave a little abruptly, the fact was, I half suspected 
my pass to be revoked. A terrible fellow, that General 
Butler; he had me sit in a chair with one leg tied to his 
desk, I couldn’t get away from that lop -eye of his, but my 
early training stood me in good stead. I could see, how- 
ever, he half suspected me. I think he had a man behind 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


315 


a screen, also, to take down my replies, for I saw a little 
movement once in a while which indicated the motion of a 
head and arms. I left rather suddenly, for fear he might 
reconsider.” 

“ Then you received no order to return, hut assumed the 
responsibility yourself ? ” The doctor leaned back negli- 
gently in his chair, and thrust his thumbs into the arm- 
holes of his waistcoat. 

“ Well, practically, it amounted to that; my last instruc- 
tions were somewhat vague. I am on a special mission, 
you see, and am allowed to exercise discretion.” 

“ Did not your latest communication from your superior, 
request you to notify him when you intended returning 
North ? Were you not specifically instructed that certain 
conditions might necessitate a prolonged stay ? And here 
you are in New York.” The doctor was now leaning for- 
ward and looking sternly at Monsieur Laujac. 

Ignoring the accuracy of the doctor’s statements, Laujac 
replied : 

“ My friend, this is altogether too personal a matter to 
discuss here, or with you. What my instructions were, 
what my plans were, what my superior’s designs were, can- 
not possibly he explained to you ; you are not sufficiently 
advanced to comprehend the working of the professed 
fathers; inquisitiveness, my dear doctor, is a fatal error in 
the way of your advancement;” and saying this Monsieur 
Laujac arose. “■ Come, doctor, it waxes late, I have letters 
yet to write, do you go my way ? ” and he shook; himself 
jauntily, and smoothed the wrinkles out of his coat, pre- 
paratory to seeking for his hat in the hall. 

“ Stay one moment, my dear Monsieur Laujac, I too have 
a couple of letters to write, and as they may interest you, 
I beg you will oblige me by reseating yourself. I shall not 
detain you long and I can write them here,” and very de- 
liberately the doctor opened the drawer of the library table. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


316 

and removed pen, ink, paper, and sealing wax. Monsieur 
Laujac looked on, shrugging his shoulders indifferently, 
as much as to say, “ it is a matter of no importance to me, 
hut I will not be rude.” In his pocket he found one of 
Mr. Cateret’s fine cigars, which he lighted, while slowly 
stalking up and down the room. Deep in thought he 
flicked the ashes right and left as he paced the floor, re 
gardless of the luxurious carpet. Dr. Maginn wrote rapidly, 
and soon finished one of the letters, which he inclosed in 
an envelope and addressed to General Beckx; then laying 
it face down upon the table he began the second; this 
was even briefer than the first. Monsieur Laujac paid 
little heed to his movements until he lighted a wax taper, 
and picking up the sealing wax ignited it and dropped the 
burning wax upon the paper — he suddenly arrested his 
walk, and stood staring at the doctor, who removed a ring 
from his pocket with the seal of which he stamped the 
still soft wax, replaced the ring in his pocket and arising, 
tendered the now thoroughly dumfounded Laujac the 
open letter. One glance at its seal satisfied Monsieur 
Laujac; he took no more interest in his cigar. There was 
the hand, holding the five-bladed sword. It was enough! 
Dr. Maginn was his Provincial, and he had thought him a 
lay brother. Poor Laujac! his haughty self-possessed man- 
ner had all disappeared ; his face was paler than ever, his 
eyes were bent upon the paper and he read : 

“ Dear Brother: — In leaving New Orleans without 
permission, you have been the means of thwarting the 
action of your superiors in a matter of the gravest and most 
vital importance to our order. The letter which your 
Provincial now intrusts to your charge, you will bear di- 
rectly with the utmost expedition to Rome and deliver to 
the General. 


“ (signed) George Maginn, S. J.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


3i; 


Raising his eyes he encountered those of Dr. Maginn, 
cold, implacable, and steelly. Humbly he took the letter 
which his superior extended to him. 

“ Brother Laujac, you have been guilty of great disre- 
gard of the interests of our holy order, and the mission 
with which his Eminence intrusted you has been griev- 
ously imperilled by your selfishness and desire of self- 
aggrandizement. You have sought to obtain an unholy 
influence over a young lady, under the protection of the 
Order. You have neglected your duties, and now must 
suffer the consequences. In my letter to the General I 
have offered what excuse I may for your conduct. The 
speedier your departure for Europe, the sooner you may 
expect pardon for past remissness. One word more. The 
true object and aims of our Order in America, you fail ut- 
terly to comprehend. So vast, so great are they, that a 
small, narrow mind like yours, would be filled with awe 
and amazement did you but partially conceive the Gen- 
eral’s vast scheme for this country’s regeneration, and 
enrollment in the true faith. The Catholic Hierarchy here 
in the United States is an established fact; this is the 
f paradise of the J esuits ! ’ Sooner or later, from here, and 
not from Rome, will the world be ruled.” 

With folded arm and bowed head the once haughty 
Father Laujac listened to the glowing language of Dr. 
Maginn, who, like one inspired, towered above him as he 
expounded the aims and ambitions of the order of which 
he was the most important factor in the United States. 
Even the Archbishop of New York, in these matters, was 
subservient to him. Seeing Laujac so dejected, he tapped 
him on the shoulder. 

“ Come, brother, cheer up, I have no doubt you will make 
no such mistake again ; and your brilliant ability may well 
be utilized here in the future. Come! Miss Cateret’s car- 
riage awaits to take us to our hotels; ” and turning down 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


318 

the gas they left the house. Not one word did Father 
Laujac offer in self-defense. Upon leaving him, Dr. Ma- 
ginn shook him warmly by the hand, spoke a few encour- 
aging words and enjoined upon him an immediate depar- 
ture. 

Within ten days he was upon the ocean. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


319 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A CABINET MEETING. 

Battle after battle had been fought, and although the 
Northern armies had achieved many victories, they had 
also suffered defeats. The winter of ’62 opened cold and 
dreary. Hundreds of thousands of men were in the fields, 
and the country cried loudly at the waste of human life. 
When would it all end? Would it not have been better 
to let the South go ? Many good and true Union men 
thought so. It was a time of stern trial to those at the 
helm of Government. The boldness and insolence of 
Northern “ copperheads/’ grew daily more marked, and 
their murmurs reached the capital, and almost daunted 
the resolute spirits who guided the ship of state. “ How 
long, 0 Lord ? ” was the bitter cry that filled the land. 
On this particular night, after a day of exhausting mental 
labor, three men were seated in the President’s private 
room at the White House. The cold north wind howled 
dismally around the Presidential mansion, and as each gust 
blew the keen sleet against the window panes, at least one 
of these men shuddered at the thought of the poor soldiers 
in the field. It is unnecessary to say that that man was 
the President. Always thoughtful, always keenly alive to 
suffering, his drawn, weary look would have won the heart 
of his bitterest enemy. The subject under discussion had 
been Burnside’s retreat across the Rappahannock, and the 
unnecessary expenditure of human life entailed by his pre- 
mature crossing in the teeth of the rebel battalions. Fif- 
teen thousand men had been needlessly sacrificed, and 119 


320 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


point gained; in fact, the moral effect of his retreat had 
been discussed, and the merciless criticisms of a hostile 
press had borne heavily against the President and Secre- 
tary Stanton. With his long legs crossed, and his heavy 
head resting in his hand, the President himself looked ab- 
sently at the blazing grate fire; while Secretaries Stanton 
and Seward conversed in low tones at the table on the 
other side of the room. 

“ Seward/’ suddenly exclaimed the President, “ did I tell 
you I received a letter from Prof. Morse to-day, warning 
me against the Jesuits, and complaining that I sent Arch- 
bishop Hughes with Thurlow Weed to Europe to represent 
American affairs to our European cousins? He tells me 
the Archbishop is also an arch Jesuit, and while there, 
consulted frequently and independently with prominent 
Jesuits. He says he knows absolutely, that Davis is in cor- 
respondence with Pius IX., and there is no question of the 
complicity of the Order in our present civil war; and that 
they are continuously working in their secret way to handi- 
cap us in every move we make. What do you think of it ? 
I myself have had some experience with these ‘ gentlemen 
in black.’ I defended a Jesuit priest some years ago, in 
Illinois, and I saw enough of their deviltry then. He 
warned me against them; even declaring they would have 
my life, but I am tolerably healthy yet.” 

“You may not be through with them yet, Mr. Presi- 
dent, and I am inclined to think Morse is more than half 
right. In fact, I am watching some of the gentry now, 
and I have every evidence necessary that there has been a 
constant communication between well-known Catholics in 
New York, and the Southern leaders,” said Mr. Stanton. 
Prophetic remark; had only sufficient heed been paid to it! 

“ I think you are altogether too severe, gentlemen, upon 
these poor religionists,” broke in Secretary Seward. “ Is 
it not a fact now, that it is customary to ascribe everything 


NOT TO THE SWIFT, 


321 


we cannot see through, to the influence of the Jesuits? 
i Give a dog a bad name and hang him/ Some of the most 
amiable, polished, cultivated men I know, are Catholic 
gentlemen. There is Mr. Corcoran ” 

“A Southern sympathizer,” burst out Stanton. 

“ There is Bishop Purcell ” 

“A Jesuit,” again broke in Secretary Stanton. 

“And Dr. Maginn, of New York, is a man any country 
might be proud of.” 

“ Maginn is nothing more or less than a Southern spy, 
Seward, and at the present moment he is being watched,” 
cried the now irate Secretary of War. 

“ Try again, Seward,” laughed the President, “ Stanton 
has you on every side.” 

“ He may have me, as you say, Mr. President, in these in- 
dividual cases, but I believe altogether too much stress is 
laid upon the actions of this Catholic order. Ever since 
Eugene Sue wrote his celebrated novel ‘The Wandering 
Jew/ it has been the fashion to see the hand of a Jesuit 
in every mysterious act. I have no doubt the order has 
its bad men, so have all organizations, but why condemn 
the order as a whole ? Look at the educational work they 
are doing! Where will you find a more modest, studious, 
well-deported class of young men or young women than 
their schools turn out ? ” 

“Oh, you mole!” cried the impetuous Stanton. “Look 
beneath the surface, Mr. Secretary of State, these children 
are not Jesuits. A Jesuit’s training is not a thing of a 
year or two of tuition; but every one of them has instilled 
into his mind certain principles which render them fit sub- 
jects to be used in after-life, if needed. Scratch a Rus- 
sian’s back, and you will find a Tartar underneath. Go 
beneath the surface of male or female Catholic, educated 
in a Jesuit institution, and you find a ready tool to be used 
in social or political life hereafter. Just now I am about 
21 


322 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


to cause the arrest of a beautiful young girl; under the 
guise of patriotism, the Jesuits have wrought upon her, 
until her entire life is devoted to the Southern cause. 
She is intelligent, clear-headed, and has made a large for- 
tune unaided, when her father failed. She has great in- 
fluence with Southern leaders, and uses her wealth without 
stint, besides being intrusted with large sums from rebel 
sources. She was educated, I am told, at a Jesuit convent, 
and is now hiding in one. Archbishop Hughes ought to 
be in a military prison.” 

“Come, come, Stanton, you are altogether too severe 
upon the Jesuits,” replied Mr. Seward, somewhat vexed. 
“ Where will you find nobler men or women than among 
the Jesuit priesthood, and their nuns ? More self-sacrific- 
ing, more unselfish, more patient and gentle people I have 
never known. I even think I recollect when, at a great 
plague in Marseilles, their co-religionists fled, these men 
and women Jesuits stepped in from the neighboring towns, 
and died at their posts. Is there anything in religion more 
noble, or grander than this self-sacrifice ? ” 

Mr. Lincoln clapped his hands in great glee. “ Good, 
Seward, good, it’s a great thing to have an historical mem- 
ory.” But the great War Secretary was not to be con- 
quered so easily. When aroused he was a terrible antag- 
onist. With his left hand thrust under the tail of his coat 
and his long right fore-finger extended he said : 

“A historical memory, indeed! I too am somewhat 
gifted that way, gentlemen. Great and good men there 
are in this ‘ Company of Jesus/ I admit, men of steadfast 
purpose and pure lives, but these men are not their leaders. 
In the heat of argument I will not advert to the terrible 
crimes committed under the instructions of their leaders 
in mediaeval times; it is a matter of history. They are no 
longer what Loyola designed them to be, the ‘ soldiers of 
the Church/ they are the politicians, the Machiavelli, the 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


323 


Talleyrands of the Church. Born in Spain, reared in 
France, and developed in Italy they are now spreading 
over our own beautiful land. Every civilized country in 
which they have obtained a foothold, has been compelled 
to expel them. Even one pope himself felt the necessity 
of suppressing them, but they were called into life by an- 
other. Jesuitism! It is now the Catholic Church ! Have 
you ever thought, gentlemen, of the millions upon millions 
of money controlled by their bishops in America ? And all 
to be used at the will of the Pope ! Archbishop Hughes 
controls the sum of thirty millions; what will he or his 
successor control twenty-five years from now ? Gentle- 
men, we are simply seated upon a volcano. I tremble for 
the future of this country, for I am not sure the Pope, 
when driven from Italy, as he is sure to be, will not take 
up his abode in America. Even now he is coquetting with 
Jefferson Davis, and we all know that through the Em- 
press he holds Napoleon under his thumb.” 

Mr. Stanton resumed his seat, and for a few moments 
no one spoke. The Secretary’s invective had aroused too 
painful thoughts in the minds of both Mr. Lincoln and 
Mr. Seward. Finally a long sigh escaped the President 
and he said : 

“ You seem to have some spite against these poor Jesuits, 
Stanton. I have no doubt they have been guilty of many 
murders, but you overrate their power for mischief, I 
think.” 

Seward said nothing, but the conversation was not for- 
gotten, and when, shortly after that, the riots occurred in 
New York, Mr. Lincoln wrote Archbishop Hughes, that if 
the matter did not cease he should hold him personally 
responsible. An announcement was made that the Arch- 
bishop would address the rioters, which he did, and quiet 
was restored. Seeing Secretary Seward not disposed to 
continue the conversation, Mr. Lincoln arose, stretched his 


324 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


long legs, and walking up to Mr. Stanton put his hand on 
his shoulder. 

“ Stanton, what was that you said about arresting a 
young lady ? ” The Secretary looked up. 

“ One of the most pestiferous of these Northern copper- 
heads is a woman, and I mean to arrest her and stop her 
communication with the South,” he replied sententiously. 

“Tut, tut, Stanton, go slow, let the woman alone, we 
have men enough to deal with. Let us not become em- 
broiled with a lot of women.” 

Secretary Stanton shook his head. “ Mr. President, we 
can’t permit this thing to go on. A beautiful woman,, with 
unlimited means, can do us more injury than thousands of 
men lighting us with guns in their hands. Our very con- 
versation here may be disclosed to the Southern leaders at 
Eichmond for aught I know. This woman we speak of 
would win over the devil ” 

“But not Stanton” — interposed the President, with his 
eyes full of fun. The War Secretary smiled grimly. 

“ No, thank God ! not Stanton. I have seen them of all 
shades and complexions; as sweet as angels and as beauti- 
ful as houris, but all treacherous, all ready to precipitate 
us into the bottomless pit, if they can only pull a string 
which will aid the South.” Meanwhile Secretary Seward 
had put on a long cloak and was ready to face the blast. 
He hesitated a moment, however. 

“ Stanton,” he said, “ what proof have you against that 
girl you speak of ? Not a whit, I venture, it is merely sus- 
picion. Of course she is a rabid secessionist, all Southern 
women are, we must expect that ; but as the President has 
said, we have enough to do fighting men. Let the girl 
alone unless you have actual proof.” 

“Very well, gentlemen, since you both wish it, I will 
give her another chance, but the first time I have evidence 
of her communication with the South, I shall arrest her. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


325 


Why, even Butler from his post in New Orleans warns me 
against her and her associates. One of them has just es- 
caped his clutches, but he has been driven out of the coun- 
try, sailed for Europe months ago, or I should have clapped 
him into Fort Lafayette.” Secretary Seward looked at the 
President and thought he saw evidence of unusual satisfac- 
tion. Had these two only known what that trifling inter- 
est they took in an unknown girl meant for them. Had 
they only permitted Stanton to have his way unobstructed, 
“ the cruel Fates might yet have been appeased.” 


326 


NOT TO THE SWIFT, 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

Madeleine’s arrest. 

Whether it was Mr. Lincoln’s last remark, or because 
Secretary Stanton was not yet prepared to arrest her, 
Madeleine was not molested. For two or three months 
she remained in strict seclusion. Continually in commu- 
nication with Dr. Maginn, she learned that although her 
house had not been visited, it was continually watched, and 
she dared not return. As spring returned, she ventured 
to take a little more freedom, but never visited Washing- 
ton. At the Convent she was treated with distinguished 
consideration and was indeed an honored guest. The Su- 
perior was a lady of much dignity, and fine intellectual 
training. During the long winter evenings Madeleine often 
visited her in her rooms — and shut out as she was from all 
communication with the world, save what she obtained 
through letters and papers — intercourse with one so gifted 
was a luxury not to be despised. 

With consummate adroitness Mother Laning questioned 
Madeleine about her life, and was not long in learning the 
nature of the girl. Like most strong, self-reliant persons, 
Madeleine was not suspicious. What cared she who knew 
of her life. It was open to inspection, although she wished 
not to bruit it abroad. She never denied she had made 
her fortune in speculation. She had no intrigues, except 
political ones, men she cared not for, except to bend them 
to her purpose. Never for one moment had passion stirred 
her heart. A Galatea truly, but one never to be warmed 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


327 


into life by the embraces of a Pygmalion. Had she chosen 
a model from olden times she would have passed as Egeria, 
rather than Aspasia. A lovable character she certainly was 
not. The only real affection she had ever aroused, was 
that she had inspired in Hugo Bernhard; and that had 
not survived her betrayal of her true nature. The nicely 
adjusted balance between her physical and mental com- 
position, forbade the introduction of moods to sway her 
character. Her way through life was characterized by un- 
swerving persistency in the direction in which she set her- 
self to be moved. All exoteric influences failed to impress 
themselves upon her, as the result of the limited possibili- 
ties of her emotional nature. 

To Mother Laning she appeared a monstrosity. Did 
she try to invoke interest in the war, she found it limited, 
after the question of the success of either side had been 
settled. The terrible loss of life, the agony of human suf- 
fering, the momentous influences which hung upon the 
events of an hour, never appealed to her beyond the fact 
that Southern sovereignty was by so much delayed. Did 
she introduce the topic of religion, and paint in roseate 
colors the millennium, when papal supremacy should ex- 
tend its protecting aegis over this fair land, she only ob- 
served a polite acquiescence in her statements. Nothing 
touched her apathetic soul, save when the question of in- 
fluencing and controlling human actions was dwelt upon. 
To her men and women were puppets, to be pulled around 
as suited her fancy, and the one person in the world she 
most feared and admired, was the great War Secretary. 
She would almost have forsworn her allegiance to the 
South, to have had his power. “Ah, if I could only make 
and unmake men as he does. Mother Laning,” she said one 
day in a fit of desperation at her enforced idleness. The 
fact was, she was just then pining for occupation. Since 
her seclusion at the Convent she had been obliged to forego 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


328 

her intrigues with the Southern leaders. But spring had 
come, and no longer feeling the necessity for hiding, Made- 
leine reopened communication with the Southern Secre- 
tary of State. She took to riding horseback, and scoured 
the heights back of Georgetown at all hours of the day and 
night. She often met mysterious-looking personages, re- 
ceived and dispatched messages. Using her abundant 
means she gained information of the officers, troops, and 
defences of Washington, which she continually forwarded 
to her correspondent. Not a General of any note found 
his way to Washington that she was not instantly apprised 
of it. No levy of troops, but she knew it before the press, 
and Richmond knew the secrets of the Administration 
before the North was informed. Her ceaseless activity 
now drew down upon her the admonitions of Mother Lan- 
ing, who feared the argus eyes of the authorities would be 
turned hitherward. One bright June afternoon Madeleine 
mounted her horse and urged him gently up the slope 
toward Oak Hill Cemetery. Here on the summit of the 
hill, Madeleine reined in her horse, and viewed the beauti- 
ful landscape. In the distance the broad Potomac wended 
its way toward the Bay, and beyond was Washington, and 
following with her eye the line of Pennsylvania Avenue, 
she came to the magnificent Capitol, and the thought came 
to her: "how grand it would be if Jefferson Davis could 
only be inaugurated ruler of this great Nation at these 
portals. What would her position be! ” And irritated that 
the thing could not be accomplished, she thoughtlessly 
brought down her whip upon her horse’s flank, causing 
him to make a mighty bound, which almost unseated her, 
and did succeed in upsetting a dilapidated-looking stranger, 
who was approaching her from behind, and who, in his 
efforts to avoid being trampled upon, lost his balance and 
rolled down the slope a rod or two before regaining his 
footing. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 329 

"Are you hurt ? ” inquired Madeleine, rather solicitously 
for her. 

" Not a bit, miss, hut I had a narrow squeak of it, the 
brute was near putting his foot in my face,” replied the 
man approaching and removing his slouch hat. " Perhaps 
you are the lady I am looking for, most likely you have 
friends you’d like to hear from, now.” 

" Certainly, I have, are you from Rome ? ” 

" That’s the checker, miss,” and stooping, he removed 
one boot heel, and handed Madeleine a small, round silver 
ball; in return Madeleine withdrew from her hair a bodkin 
from which she unscrewed a similar ball and tossed it to 
the messenger, replacing it with the one she had received, 
thrusting the newly adjusted hairpin into her back hair. 
This business had hardly been accomplished when the 
messenger started. " Sh,” he uttered, " some one’s com- 
ing, I’m off,” and running to the low iron fence surround- 
ing the cemetery he jumped it, and disappeared among 
the grass as a couple of cavalrymen galloped up to where 
Madeleine stood. 

One of them, Madeleine noticed, wore a second lieuten- 
ant’s shoulder strap. 

" I beg your pardon,” uttered the lieutenant, as he reined 
up his horse, " but is this Miss Cateret ? ” 

" That is my name,” replied Madeleine haughtily, " what 
do you want with me ? ” 

"Who was that man with you just as we came up ?” 

" There was no man with me, sir, and I do not under- 
stand your right to question me,” and turning her horse’s 
head she would have galloped off, had the hand of the 
officer not fallen upon the bridle and detained her. 

"You are my prisoner, Miss Cateret. Hamilton, ride 
around the cemetery and see if you can catch that fellow, 
I am sure he ran through the graveyard,” The man gal- 
loped up. 


330 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“What do you mean by my being your prisoner ?” ex- 
claimed Madeleine, “ where is your warrant ? ” 

“Oh, never mind the warrant! You must go with me 
anyway, we don’t need warrants to arrest spies; come!” 
and turning his horse which placed him a little lower on 
the knoll than his prisoner, he reached back to grasp her 
bridle, but Madeleine’s fearless spirit was aroused, and giv- 
ing her horse another one of those powerful blows on the 
flank, she caused him to rear and urged him forward at 
the same time; as he came down, he struck the lieutenant’s 
horse in the side and overturned horse and rider down the 
hill; cut after cut descended upon the now frightened ani- 
mal, and Madeleine darted toward the high road at head- 
long speed; it appeared as if she would escape, but the 
fates were against her. She had barely reached the road 
when a loud “halt!” rang out, and a third cavalryman, 
carbine in hand, and planted in the middle of the road, 
arrested her flight. 

“ What do you want with me ? This is the high road, 
what right have you to stop me ? ” inquired Madeleine, 
pulling up her trembling horse. 

“You must wait a moment until I see the lieutenant,” 
replied the soldier respectfully. A few moments brought 
the lieutenant into sight, some distance back, leading his 
crippled horse. Madeleine saw the game was up, and re- 
signed herself, inwardly raging at the detention. The 
word “ spy,” which the lieutenant dropped, led her to fear 
the worst. Slowly the officer came up, he appeared unin- 
jured himself, but his horse was very lame. He compli- 
mented the cavalryman upon his alertness, and then or- 
dered him to dismount and give him his horse. 

“ Now lead this lady’s horse over to that little grove, and 
remain concealed there until I return. See to it she does 
not escape you, Graffam,” he said, and mounting his man’s 
horse, and leading hi$ own, he started slowly toward 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


331 


Georgetown. Not one word did he address to Madeleine, 
but his serious tone he used in speaking to the cavalry- 
man, taught Madeleine it would be better not to object. 
With his left hand holding the bridle of her horse, the sol- 
dier directed him toward the clump of trees indicated by 
his officer. A thousand thoughts flashed through Made- 
leine’s mind in the few moments before they gained the 
cover of the grove. Looking down at the soldier she 
seemed to half adopt some sudden resolve, and shutting 
her teeth she unbuttoned a button or two of her riding 
habit, and placing her hand within, grasped the handle of 
a small revolver she* always carried in her rides. Her 
thought was, to shoot him in the back of the head; but 
the fear of the noise, as much as the thought that it would 
be murder, restrained her. When they had reached the 
clump of trees, Madeleine’s captor led her horse into a 
slight hollow, and bade her dismount, which action on his 
part instantly dissipated all hope of escape by flight. Either 
she must kill her guard, or win him over to her side. En- 
cumbered as she was with her riding habit, walking, not 
to say running, was out of the question. Gracefully ac- 
cepting the situation, she acknowledged the slight assist- 
ance he tendered, to enable her to alight, with a pleasant 
“ thank you, sir.” Hitching her horse to a tree, the soldier 
seated himself at some little distance, but keeping a watch- 
ful eye all the while upon his prisoner. For a few moments 
Madeleine walked up and down, grasping her riding skirt 
in one hand, and softly cutting the small twigs and bushes 
with her whip, as she eyed the man on whom depended all 
her hopes of freedom. Once in the hands of those whose 
order had brought him there, no power could save her 
from prison, and possibly a worse fate, and a slight shud- 
der passed over her frame as she pictured a scaffold, herself 
covered with a black shroud, and the executioner at her 
elbow. 


332 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


They would never dare do that she thought, and her lips 
were compressed, and her face grew for an instant pallid. 
Then she pulled herself together with a light laugh. 

“ My friend, will you be good enough to tell me why all 
this indignity is put upon a lady who is merely taking her 
afternoon ride ? ” The soldier, thus addressed, stood up. 

“ I am sure I can't say, miss, I only obey my orders; such 
a pretty lady as you can never do harm, they will let you 
go to-night, perhaps.” With this encouraging remark, he 
relapsed into silence. 

“But I don't wish to be retained until night, I have 
friends who will be anxious about me, powerful friends, 
too, and it is getting late. Those who interfere with my 
liberty will be surely punished.'' 

“ Can't help it, miss,” he replied stolidly, “ I must obey 
orders.” 

“ What regiment do you belong to ? inquired Madeleine. 

“ The 1st Maine Cavalry, miss.” 

“And what is the lieutenant's name ? ” 

“ Lieutenant Bartlett, miss.” Madeleine thought a mo- 
ment. 

“ Why did you enter the army ? ” she asked sweetly. 

“ Oh, I don’t know, I wish I had stayed at home, but I 
am a poor man, and I came as a substitute. I got a pile 
of money for the wife and children.” 

Instantly Madeleine's eyes flashed, coming close to the 
soldier she looked him in the face an instant. 

“ If you will let me go I will give you money enough to 
last you and your family for a lifetime. I am a very rich 
woman. I will give you ten thousand dollars.” The sol- 
dier's face grew scarlet, and his mouth partly opened in 
wonder. “Ten thousand dollars! Oh, my! that's an aw- 
ful sum of money, miss!” 

“And yet I can give it to you to-morrow, and not mind 
it, only help me to get to the Convent down yonder, Tell 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


333 


them any story you please, they can only put you in the 
guard-house for twenty-four hours. Think what happi- 
ness all that money will bring your little family ! And, 
my friend, decide quickly before the officer’s return.” The 
soldier wavered. " Such a lot of money and for so little 
service! This was only a woman, her escape would not 
hurt the Government ! ” Madeleine saw he was half won. 

" I have five or six hundred dollars with me, I will give 
you that now, and if you will come to an address I give 
you, the ten thousand shall be yours besides.” The man 
thought a moment. 

"By George! IT1 do it,” he burst out. "But you must 
shoot me in the leg, I must be hurt some way. If you only 
had a pistol now, it wouldn’t do to use mine.” 

" Oh, as for that, I have one, I can can do it nicely.” And 
Madeleine produced her pistol. The man took it, and ex- 
amined it. 

"That will do,” he said, "the ball is a little one, I can 
stand it, I guess.” 

" Shall I do it now ? ” asked Madeleine, eager to get away. 

"No, wait a moment! When shall I come for the 
money ? ” Madeleine took out a card, and commenced to 
write Dr. Maginn’s address upon it, when suddenly the 
clatter of hoofs was heard, and a loud " Hello! Graffam! ” 
caused the soldier to put the pistol quickly into his pocket. 

"It’s all up, miss,” he whispered. "Sorry it didn’t 
work. I’d liked that ten thousand mighty well, too.” 

" Here, Lieutenant,” he cried, running to the edge of the 
grove. 

"All right, Graffam, you have your prisoner safe, I sup- 
pose ? ” 

"All safe, lieutenant,” replied the soldier promptly. 

" Well, here is your horse, mount him, and bring the 
lady out into the road, a carriage will be here in a few mo- 
ments.” The officer dismounted and waited until the 


334 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


clatter of the carriage wheels was heard, then he turned 
toward the grove and noticed Madeleine and the cavalry- 
man ride toward him. The carriage came up about the 
same time. 

“You will be obliged to dismount, Miss Cateret, and 
enter the carriage,” said the officer. Madeleine felt like 
rebelling, but she saw it would not avail her, and quickly 
submitted. The officer then ordered her horse’s saddle 
removed, and placed under the driver’s seat, directing Graf- 
fam to lead him by the bridle to his quarters. The horse 
was a beautiful one, and he was not sorry at the exchange. 
Lieutenant Bartlett then entered the carriage with Made- 
leine, the jehu cracked his whip, the inside blinds were 
drawn, and they went off at full speed. 


NOT TO THE SWIET. 


335 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

A PRISONER OF STATE. 

Madeleine threw herself back in the carriage and 
awaited events. The lieutenant sat opposite her, and 
maintained a stubborn silence. It was growing dark and 
the curtains being drawn, it was impossible for her to see 
in what direction they were driving, but finally she became 
conscious that they were crossing a bridge. 

“Are we going to Washington ? ” she finally inquired, 
putting as much amiability into her tone as she felt capa- 
ble of. 

“We are,” curtly answered the officer. 

“And where am I to lodge to-night, Mr. Lieutenant? 
Can I not send to my friends, and obtain suitable cloth- 
ing ? ” 

“ Impossible, madam,” replied the officer briefly. “ I do 
not myself know where you will stop, we shall learn that 
later.” 

“A delightful state of affairs, truly, for a lady to be kid- 
napped in open day; you must have some warrant for all 
this.” 

“None except the orders of my superior, madam; I re- 
gret that I am the instrument used, but you will soon have 
done with me.” 

“ Yes, to encounter something worse,” said Madeleine 
bitterly. The officer bowed, but Madeleine did not see 
this. The carriage rattled over the pavement and drew 
up suddenly, then stopped. The door was opened, and 
Lieutenant Bartlett stepped out and assisted Madeleine to 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


33 6 

the walk. She was not familiar enough with Washington to 
tell where they were. She saw a large building and that 
was all. Requesting her to accept his arm, the lieutenant 
conducted her up a broad stairway, passed through several 
rooms where she noticed several officers lounging around 
who eyed her curiously, and then entered a small room 
plainly carpeted, containing a desk, chairs, and a lounge 
or two; it was lighted with one gas-jet % 

“ You will remain here until sent for, Miss Cateret,” said 
Lieutenant Bartlett, then bowing, he withdrew, closing 
and locking the door. For the first time since her arrest, 
Madeleine found herself alone — but a prisoner. No other 
door led from the room, and a hasty glance from the win- 
dow showed her that she was thirty or forty feet from the 
pavement below. Most young women in this condition 
would have given way to tears, but not Madeleine. She 
was thoroughly angry; two red spots shone on her cheeks, 
and her eyes snapped, as she reflected upon the events of 
the day. 

“ I suppose I am soon to see this ferocious Secretary of 
War. Much good may he derive from the interview,” she 
muttered. Then suddenly remembering the silver ball, 
she removed the pin from her hair, listened a moment to 
be sure of not being surprised, and then unscrewing it, re- 
moved a bit of tissue paper. There she read that a certain 
scheme was on foot to end the rebellion at one blow, and 
bring confusion upon the North. It might be necessary 
for her to go to Canada. She would hear further particu- 
lars later and must hold herself in readiness. Madeleine 
placed the paper in her mouth, chewed it up, then tore it 
in bits, and scattered it behind a lounge. Then she fell 
to ruminating upon the great blow to be struck the North, 
and wondered what it was. Just then the door was un- 
locked, and Lieutenant Bartlett presented himself. 

“ Will you be kind enough to follow me, Miss Cateret ? I 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


337 


will take you to see Secretary Stanton. Possibly you may 
be released and I can take you home to-night, at least 
I trust so.” The lieutenant seemed kind-hearted and 
friendly, and Madeleine was disposed to augur cheerfully 
from his demeanor. Vain hope! 

In a few moments she was ushered into an adjoining 
room, and there sitting at a desk was a man whom she 
recognized to be Edwin M. Stanton, United States Secre- 
tary of War. The Secretary looked up as Madeleine and 
her escort entered the room. 

“You can leave her here, Lieutenant Bartlett; remain 
in the anteroom until I call you.” Paying no more atten- 
tion to Madeleine he resumed his writing. Striding up to 
the desk, her riding whip, which she still retained, in her 
hand, she spoke in a clear ringing voice: 

“ Secretary Stanton, will you tell me on what pretext I 
have been kidnapped by your soldiers, and brought here 
at this unseemly hour ? If you are a gentleman you will 
answer me instantly.” The only answer she received was : 

“ Take a seat, woman, and be quiet, I will attend to you 
directly.” He then continued writing. Had Madeleine 
still had the pistol, she would assuredly have killed the 
War Secretary, as he sat at his desk. Never had she been 
so outraged. Here was a man who not only caused her 
removal from her friends, but who, at a civil question, 
treated her brutally. Her Southern blood was boiling. 
Gould the Secretary have seen her face, despite his sang 
froid, he would have treated her more politely. She 
ground her teeth in impotent rage, and her hands were 
clinched until the nails sank into the rosy palm. She 
passed to the further corner of the room and seated her- 
self. Her mood changed, and satisfied in her own mind 
that the man she had to deal with was no gentleman, she 
fell back upon her own thoughts, and wondered if Lieu- 
tenant Bartlett’s man had caught the bearer of her mes- 
22 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


338 

sage; that would compromise her completely, if they suc- 
ceeded in reading it, but she determined to brave it out. 
Looking up she caught the Secretary’s eyes upon her. He 
had finished his letter, and swinging around noiselessly in 
bis chair was scrutinizing her. Instantly a haughty stare 
met his intense gaze. 

“ My girl, what a fool you are to measure yourself against 
me! At any hour of the last six months I could have put 
my finger upon you, had I so desired. I can tell you of 
every move you have made since you left New York. 
Come, perhaps we can understand each other! You are 
bright, attractive, and I think, clear-headed. We had better 
work together, than in opposition, for the weakest will 
surely go to the wall. Now listen to me a moment. 

"Since the declaration of war — even before that — you 
have been in communication with Jeff Davis, Secretary 
Benjamin, Robert Toombs, and others among the Southern 
leaders; you were the originator of an organization known 
as the ‘ Order of the Southern Cross/ the emblem of which 
I have no doubt you now wear under your jacket; you are 
in league with prominent Jesuits who favor the South, 
and are doing all in their power to overthrow this Govern- 
ment. Under the circumstances, do you wonder that you 
are here ? Is it not a greater wonder that you have been 
permitted to remain at large while hatching all the villan- 
ous plans to undo the Government which has always pro- 
tected you ? ” 

The manner of the Secretary was calm, dignified, and 
expostulatory. Not a word did Madeleine vouchsafe in 
return. The Secretary continued, and his tone was yet 
kindly, while his gray eyes peered through his glasses and 
sought to read the effect of his* words. Madeleine re- 
mained cold and unmoved. 

"What a nature is yours, which turns to rend the heart 
which nurtured you in infancy and youth! You, an 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


339 


American born, and now because a few Southern fire-eaters, 
discontented politicians, and unscrupulous adventurers, 
seek to dismember this confederation of States, you allow 
yourself to be duped into joining them, and fancy your- 
self a patriot ! All that you have, and all that you are, 
comes from the North, and yet in secret you stab us, and 
aid these poor deluded fools. Promise to cease from this 
moment all communication with your Southern friends 
to our prejudice, and I will instantly restore you to your 
people. You shall go where you will, and none shall spy 
upon your movements. If you are really ambitious for 
power and fame, join hands with us. The Government 
will employ you in honorable business. You have heard 
Stanton spoken of as high-handed and arbitrary; judge of 
me as you know me now, and tell me if I have treated you 
unfairly. What you have already done would have hung 
many a man, but the Government does not war with wo- 
men.” Secretary Stanton paused. Madeleine listened 
calmly to all he had to say. She had been told he was a 
rough man, and a bullying one, but here was a man who 
was quiet, persuasive, and eloquent. Why did he plead so 
with her ? Either he had no proof, or else she was of more 
importance than she thought. Like a foolish girl she be- 
lieved she could brave it out. 

And while a sneer curled her lip she said: 

"And so. Secretary Stanton, after violating all laws, you 
prate to me of right and justice! You seized me while 
quietly riding, without warrant, and brought me forcibly 
here to listen to your specious words. You seek to bribe 
a Southern girl to betray her country. Never! You may 
put me into one of your numerous Bastiles, but it will do 
you no good. I shall yet live to see you hung, and Jeffer- 
son Davis administering justice in Washington. In place 
of a pack of thieves and law-breakers, we shall have here 
Southern gentlemen, noble, chivalrous, and honest. You 


340 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


refer to the Jesuits; yes, many of them are friends of 
mine, and I am proud to say so. You little know their 
power, but you will feel it. Look to yourself, proud Secre- 
tary of War, you little know the storm you are raising 
around you. Do your worst, I defy you! ” 

“Foolish girl,” replied the Secretary, “your audacity 
outstrips your judgment. Since you will have it so, you 
shall go to the Bastile, and when you issue forth it may be 
you will go feet foremost to a felon’s grave.” Binging a 
bell which stood upon his desk, Lieutenant Bartlett hur- 
ried in. “ Send a*n officer of the Provost Marshal’s guard 
to me,” said the Secretary. The lieutenant saluted, and 
retired. 

Ten minutes passed, the Secretary occupied with his 
writing, and Madeleine maintaining a haughty silence. A 
tap came at the door, and in obedience to the “ come in ” 
of Mr. Stanton, a middle-aged officer entered the room. 
The Secretary beckoned to him, conversed in a low tone 
for a moment, handed him a paper, and went on with his 
writing. Turning on his heel, the officer approached 
Madeleine, and directed her to follow him. At the door 
she hesitated a moment, thinking to make a request of the 
Secretary for proper clothing, but pride would not permit 
her, and she hurried on behind her guide. A closed car- 
riage was waiting, into which she was assisted, a whispered 
address given, and they sped away. It was about eight 
o’clock in the evening, and the streets were full of life and 
motion. Madeleine realized that it might be a long, a very 
long while, before she would mingle in this ebb and flow 
of human existence, and it was with an eager look she 
scanned the faces of those upon the street; but the speed 
with which they were driving was too great to permit of 
much observation. Gradually they drew away from the 
more frequented parts of the city, and then the carriage 
stopped before a gloomy building in front of which paced 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


341 

a soldier. As the carriage drew up, he came to a stand and 
called out " Corporal of the guard, No. 1." A non-com- 
missioned officer came out, and the officer in charge of 
Madeleine directed him to send for Superintendent 
Wood. 

"We must get out here, miss,” said the officer; he 
opened the door and Madeleine stepped upon the cobble- 
stone pavement, and looked up at the building. It was 
" Old Capitol Prison,” built forty or fifty years before, to 
supply the place of the National Capitol when it was 
burned, afterward used as a boarding house; and here it 
was that John C. Calhoun breathed his last sigh. Now it 
was occupied mostly by State prisoners. Madeleine was 
shown into a large room and given a seat upon a bench, 
among soldiers and negroes, who were temporarily off 
duty. Here the officer left her, but returned in a few mo- 
ments, and motioned her to follow him. They entered 
the room of Lieutenant Miller who had charge of the prison 
proper. Here Madeleine’s commitment was made out, the 
officer took a receipt for his prisoner, and departed, bidding 
Madeleine good-evening. 

Madeleine’s name, age, and residence having been en- 
tered in a large book, the lieutenant went to the door and 
called out, " Hi, there ! where is f Cram ’ ? ” 

"Coming, Lieutenant,” came back, and a big-waisted, 
heavy-faced, but shrewd-looking female entered the 
room. 

" Search this woman, and then put her in No. 13,” said 
Lieutenant Miller brusquely. 

" Come with me, my pretty,” said the woman taking 
Madeleine by the arm, and leading her out, conducted her 
to a closet of a room. 

" Now, my dear, empty your pockets,” said Mrs. Cram, 
planting herself in front of Madeleine, with her hands on 
her hips. 


342 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ I have no pockets, you see this is a riding skirt, my 
good woman,” replied Madeleine as placidly as possible. 

“All the same you must take it off, and your jacket, too.” 

In spite of Madeleine’s protests, one article of apparel 
followed another, even her shoes and stockings were not 
overlooked. A flush of shame and indignation mantled 
Madeleine’s cheeks at this indignity and exposure, but 
Mrs. Cram was an artist in her way. 

“ Now down with you hair, my sweet.” Madeleine re- 
moved the bodkin and numerous hair -pins and allowed her 
hair to fall in thick waves over her bare shoulders. Mrs. 
Cram ran her fingers through it and shook it out. 

“All right, my dear, you can dress yourself now, they 
must have catched you unexpected like, or you’d a bin 
better purvided.” While Madeleine was dressing, Mrs. 
Cram took a notion to try on Madeleine’s jacket. She 
thrust one arm in, but the other sleeve only reached to 
about the middle of her back and she was obliged to give 
it up. She held it up and surveyed it. “ That’s a purty 
thing, I wish now it only fitted, you won’t need it here; 
I’m going to put you in 13, where Belle Boyd was, it’s nice 
and warm there, these summer nights.” Then seeing Made- 
leine had finished dressing, she again grabbed her by the 
arm. “ Now we’ll go to your bed-room, my duckie,” and 
climbing a narrow flight of stairs, they entered a long hall, 
guarded by a sentinel, where Madeleine heard shouts of 
laughter mingled with songs, and inhaled an odor of to- 
bacco. Everything looked dilapidated. Up another flight 
and at the end of the passageway her conductress un- 
locked a door. 

“Here’s your sleepin’ apartment, sweet, all nice and 
snug, the windows has bars, yer see, so’s you won’t fall 
out; there’s yer bed,” pointing to one of two bunks fas- 
tened to the side of the nine-by-twelve room, “ and I’ll 
leave the candle so’s you can see to undress,” and she put 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


343 


the inch and a half of candle on a plain wooden table, 
which, with two chairs, a wash-stand and looking-glass 
constituted the furniture of the room. 

“ Now good-night, duckie, and pleasant dreams,” chuc- 
kled the old lady; closing the door with a bang she locked 
it, and Madeleine heard her shuffling footsteps along the 
hall. Then the guard’s regular tread as he passed her door 
and walked down the corridor was heard; for a few mo- 
ments quiet, and then, the tramp, tramp, of his return. 
Madeleine sank upon a chair, and rested her elbow upon 
the table. What a change was this from her quiet life at 
the Convent, and how suddenly it had all been brought 
about ! She went to the barred window, and looked out, 
but could see nothing : yes, she was a prisoner. How long 
would it be? Would Mr. Stanton relent? “What would 
Mother Laning say when she did not return ? Could she 
communicate with her friends, or was that forbidden?” 
A thought occurred to her, and removing her jacket she 
took the long bodkin from her hair and commenced to 
pick out some stitches in the breast. After making a 
sufficient opening, she thrust in her fingers and pulled out 
a roll of bank-notes. Not knowing what necessity might 
arise she had long before placed them there. At least she 
could purchase some comfort. But now the flickering of 
the light warned her that she would soon be in darkness; 
and hungry, angry, and generally wretched, she threw her- 
self, dressed as she was, upon the rude bed and slept. 


344 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

AT THE FKONT. 

In following the fortunes of the heroine of the story, 
we have neglected to keep the reader informed of some of 
the minor personages. By this time both Hugo Bernhard 
and Harry Richmond had become inured to the hardships 
of war. Hugo was already acting as Major of the regi- 
ment, and Harry commanded the Company. About the 
time when Madeleine was immured in “Old Capitol” 
prison, the two officers were lying with their regiment in 
the trenches at the rear of Port Hudson on the Mississippi. 
For weeks the siege had been going on; two desperate 
charges had been made, attended with terrible loss of life ; 
in one of these the 12th Maine regiment had gallantly 
fought its way through all obstacles until it arrived at the 
very moat out of which the earth had been thrown to build 
the rebel breastworks. In the headlong rush of the charge 
two or three men of the Maine and Connecticut regiments 
found themselves in a small sentry box on the crest of a 
knoll, overlooking the rebel works. The position was an 
exposed one, and they were subjected to the fire of the 
rebels in front, and their own men in the rear: the only 
commissioned officer there, was Harry Richmond. A vol- 
ley in front shattered the frail sides of the shanty. “ Down ! 
boys, down ! for your lives,” he cried, as one man fell in 
the doorway mortally wounded. All fell to the dirt floor 
of the cabin, and as Harry told it to Hugo, “ he couldn’t 
get too flat.” Despite the gravity of the situation, Harry 
could not restrain himself from laughing at the attitude 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


345 


of a sergeant who had grabbed in his fall, a three-legged 
milking stool, and lying flat on his back, he held it behind 
his head to protect his back hair, as he expressed it. Just 
as another volley swept through their frail shelter, tearing 
the splinters, but hurting no one, the door was darkened 
by a tall figure with one arm tied in a sling made of a new 
silk handkerchief, his face covered with blood and powder. 

“ Hello, boys ! what are you all down there for ? Have 
any of you fellows got a chew of tobacco ? Don’t all speak ! 
Why, dear me, if that isn’t Richmond. How are you, old 
fellow?” 

“ Who in God’s name are you ? Don’t stand up there or 
you are a dead man,” shouted Harry from his position on 
his back. 

“ Well, that is a great note, Richmond, this ain’t the 
Stock Exchange to be sure; how’s New York Central?” 

“ Duck, by all that’s holy,” gasped Harry, “ come down 
into the pit, this market’s a lively one! ” Duck had barely 
dropped, when a shell from one of their own batteries tore 
off the roof, and one and all, they rolled out of that death 
trap and down into the trenches, where Gus found a poor 
dead rebel with a plug of tobacco sticking out of his pocket, 
which he appropriated. Shortly afterward a flag of truce 
was out, and they all returned within their own lines. 
That night Gus, who was a lieutenant of the 116 th New 
York, came over to their quarters to learn all the New 
York news. Then Hugo heard, that through a letter from 
Mr. Cateret, Gus had learned that Miss Cateret had been 
threatened with arrest, and had left the city, showing that 
most likely his letter had been received by Dr. Maginn. 

“Boys,” said Gus in a burst of confidence, “that same 
Miss Cateret is one of the smartest girls in this country, 
but all the same she’s a copperhead of the worst kind. Did 
you ever hear of Charles Kenner, Richmond ? ” 

“Yes, indeed! I think he hurt old man Yanderfelt at 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


346 

one time, too, about the beginning of the war; at least, so 
the Governor told me.” 

“ Yes, but do you know who Kenner was ? ” 

“ Haven’t the faintest idea, man, I never saw him.” 

“Well, I do, Charles Kenner was neither more nor less 
than Miss Cateret.” 

“No!” 

“Fact! She took that name to speculate with her own 
father, and made an immense fortune, too. Why, she 
busted old man Tatum, and that broke his heart. And 
more than that, she started a society called the ‘ Order of 
the Southern Cross/ a ‘ secesh ’ order. What do you think 
of that, boys ? Smart ? I guess she was ! ” Hugo listened 
to all this in silence, Gus did not dream how interested a 
listener! 

“ I thank my stars, Harry, that I did not win that girl’s 
heart. W'hat a wife she would have made me,” lie said, 
after Gus left for his own quarters, “ but come, we shall 
be at it again to-morrow, and I am dead tired.” The crack 
of an occasional rifle shot did not disturb their rest, but 
with daylight the batteries opened, and again the scream- 
ing shell, and sharp ping of the minie ball was heard. For 
days and weeks, this firing was kept up, varied with an 
occasional dash at the enemy’s works; the trenches were 
advanced nearer and nearer. On the river front the mortar 
fleet hoisted their enormous shells into the doomed fort. 
At night it looked like a grand display of fireworks, as an 
immense thirteen-inch shell was hurled at an angle of 
forty-five degrees, its fizzing fuse spitting fire along the 
grand parabolic curve, until it landed within the works, 
and a deep “ boom ” announced its explosion, and told of 
the havoc it had wrought. How easily the lawful destruc- 
tion of human life goes on! Only sanction the killing, 
and conscience becomes but a mere figment of the imag- 
ination. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


347 


It became quite a habit for Hugo and Harry to borrow 
each a rifle of their men, and go into the trenches of a 
morning to take a dozen or so shots at the “ rebs; ” the 
occasional maiming or killing of a man was a source of 
extra amusement and congratulation ; it varied the monot- 
ony of the day. If, perchance, the lines approached each 
other closely, propositions w r ere often made for a tempo- 
rary truce, while exchanges of “ hard tack ” and coflee were 
made for corn beer, and tobacco, with which the rebels 
were largely supplied. Then the truce was declared off, 
and, “look out, Johnny! look out, Yank!” was the signal 
to seek cover, and test your skill in trying to kill the man 
whose hand you had a moment before grasped in friend- 
ship. Yes, surely, conscience is a matter of custom, and 
no fixed principle underlying human motive. The inher- 
ent brutality of civilized man divested of restraint, would 
amaze the average Fejee islander, and furnish many a 
pointed argument with which to instil our moral responsi- 
bility into the minds of his savage band. 

“Tahiti, my son, never share a bit of succulent mission- 
ary with your enemy, for if you do, you dare not kill him, 
the Great Spirit forbids it.” How nicely the moral code 
of men adjusts itself to circumstances. Let but the ruling 
power assert the legality of the human holocaust, and will- 
ing hands heap up the fagots, and conscience sleeps on 
downy pillows. Nothing is so depressing upon the spirit 
of soldiers, as inaction in the field, when under fire. Both 
Hugo and Harry seemed to feel the mental strain, as week 
after week passed, with no let up in the fusilade which 
went on while* daylight lasted. The only one whose irre- 
pressible lightness of spirits nothing could daunt, was 
Lieutenant, or rather Captain Duck, for in the numerous 
charges made upon Port Hudson his superiors had been 
killed, or retired, until he was placed in command, and his 
commission was on its way from Washington. General 


348 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Banks, still unconvinced that twenty thousand men without 
breastworks, cannot safely contend with half that number 
snugly intrenched, conceived a new plan. He published 
a proclamation asking for one thousand men to constitute 
a “forlorn hope.” Colonel Birge, of the 13th Connecticut, 
offered to lead them, and the number was soon filled. 
Medals of honor for the men, promotion for the officers, 
and an extra ration of whiskey, was the inducement. Of 
course Hugo and Harry were enthusiastic at an opportu- 
nity to distinguish themselves. Captain Duck said their 
chance of extinguishing themselves was first-class; he did 
not volunteer. One morning he appeared among the offi- 
cers and men of this select band, and created an immense 
deal of fun, with a big leather medal hung from a small 
chain from his neck, dangling on his breast; while two 
enormous epaulets, constructed out of a soldier’s blue 
trousers, decorated his broad shoulders. The commanding 
officer would have willingly suppressed this ridiculous bur- 
lesque upon their hopes, but Captain Duck had an estab- 
lished fame as a sarcastic wit, and rather than be carica- 
tured by this Yankee clown, he forebore to meddle; and 
Gus strutted around the camp until Hugo coaxed him to 
throw his medal and epaulets away for fear of their de- 
moralizing effect upon the men. Day after day was ap- 
pointed for the charge which was to follow the explosion 
of a mine. 

Masked batteries were planted, and every effort made to 
insure the success of this crowning attempt. Long wind- 
ing approaches were constructed — with thousands of cotton 
bales piled up on the Port Hudson side — to protect the 
men. Finally, it was announced that the 4th of July was 
the day set, and like men prepared for execution, every 
one nerved himself for the final moment; for no man 
could count upon coming out of the ordeal alive. The 
night of the third, all were engaged in writing home; 


NOT TO THE SWIFT, 


349 


there was no jovial gathering at the camp fire that night. 
The day had been intensely hot, with the promise of as 
great a heat on the succeeding day. Every man knew that 
if wounded and not killed on that level plain where the 
attack was to be made, he would lie under the scorching 
rays of a tropical sun, with festering wounds, and endure 
tortures worse than death before night came, and succor 
could reach him. Hugo penned a brief note to his father 
and mother, and a long letter to his beloved Grace. He 
reminded her of all the happy hours they had spent to- 
gether, and assured her again and again that, if heaven so 
willed that his life was to be a sacrifice, he should die with 
her name upon his lips, and the consciousness of her tender 
love in his heart. When he threw down his pen he felt as 
if his life blood had almost ceased to flow. 

Slowly the terrible night wore on, and with the morning 
dawn all was active preparation. Gus ran over from his 
quarters to bid his friends good-by, and even his irrepressi- 
ble humor was subdued, when he found them writing their 
names on pieces of paper, and pinning them on the inside 
of their blouses, as a means of identification in case of 
sudden death. The letters they wished to give in his 
charge, to be mailed after all was finished. To this he ob- 
jected, as the entire army would be engaged, and his death 
might be almost as sure as theirs. It was finally settled 
that Uncle Joe, Hugo’s servant, should be intrusted with 
those last messages, and the old man duly impressed with 
the solemnity of the charge could only say : 

“ Fo de Lord, Massa Majer, I sure to deliber dem letters 
if you dun mus get killed, but Ise suah de good Lord will 
hole you in de hollo ub his han\” Patiently they awaited 
the order to charge. Hour after hour passed and no mes- 
senger came. If the galloping of an orderly’s horse was 
heard, every ear was on the alert, and each man caught 
his breath. The tension was frightful. Willingly they 


350 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


would have rushed to the encounter, and had the thing 
settled. As the afternoon sun grew low on the horizon, 
they knew for at least that day there was a respite. Pipes 
were brought out, jokes began to be bandied around, a 
ration of whiskey was secured, and Uncle Joe began his 
preparations for supper. The next day was the same, the 
next and the next, and still no order. On the night of 
the 7th the heavy Parrott guns of the 21st Indiana, had 
been thundering at regular intervals, when suddenly the 
firing ceased. Every man was sleeping, but the sudden 
cessation of the accustomed sound brought each one to his 
feet. No message was received, no word was spoken, and 
yet in some mysterious way all knew that Port Hudson 
had surrendered. It was like the observations made by the 
British armies in India, of the wonderful way in which 
the natives ascertained that some movement was on foot, 
when even the army itself was not aware of it. This singu- 
lar cognizance of an approaching charge was again and 
again noted during our civil war. Men packed their knap- 
sacks, seized their guns, and prepared to march, or fight, 
minutes before an order was given. No question was ever 
asked, the same mind seemed to animate all, and when the 
order, “ fall in,” came, it fell in no unexpected way upon 
the ear. 

It was so on the morning of the 7th of July. Two 
hours after all were satisfied the end had come, the word 
was passed that a flag of truce was out, and the “rebs” 
were swarming on the breastworks. It was not long before 
Captain Duck appeared with a haversack of “ hard tack,” 
and a bag of coffee and sugar, making his way to the 
trenches ready to trade with any “Johnny Reb” for his 
dearly loved tobacco. Alabamians, Georgians, and Missis- 
sippians fraternized with the men of Maine, Connecticut, 
and New York. 

“ You uns gave us a h — 11 of a close call in that charge 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


351 


of the 27th of May,” said an officer of the 4th Alabama to 
Harry, after the army had taken possession of the fortifica- 
tions and were fraternizing together — “ if yon had followed 
that brave fellow who mounted the breastworks yon could 
all have come in.” Brave Corporal Woodworth, of Com- 
pany H, 12th Maine, he has gone down to history a name- 
less hero, and no stone was ever raised to mark his un- 
known grave. But he was only one of all the thousands 
who sacrificed their lives to maintain the integrity of our 
Government. No hand that writes, can pen a line to fitly 
commemorate such heroic sacrifice. 


352 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

OLD CAPITOL PRISON. 

Given, a healthy body and physical weariness, and not 
even the fact that the couch is in a prison cell, can prevent 
tired nature from claiming its rights. Madeleine was 
thoroughly tired when she threw herself, all dressed as she 
was, upon the hard bunk which for many long months 
was to prove her only resting place. She was suddenly 
awakened early in the morning from a dreamless sleep by 
a bang at the door. 

“ Hello ! No. 13,” was the call she heard. 

“ What is it you want ? ” she asked in no gentle tone. 

“All right, No. 13,” was the only response. It was 
simply the guard ascertaining if his prisoners were all 
safe in their rooms. An hour later, Mrs. Cram appeared, 
bearing Madeleine’s breakfast; a roll, steak, potatoes, and 
a cup of coffee. She was almost famished, having had no 
supper, and after a hasty toilet, made a famous breakfast. 
When Mrs. Cram returned to remove the dishes, Madeleine 
inquired if it would be possible for her to obtain proper 
clothing. 

“ If you have money, my dear,” said her jailor, “ there’ll 
be no trouble, but you can’t get clothes through your 
friends, for there’s no one to send.” Madeleine produced 
a fifty-dollar “greenback,” at which the woman’s eyes 
sparkled, nor did she remark that this had escaped her 
search of the night before. She hoped to share it. Hav- 
ing made out a list of necessary things, she gave Mrs. Cram 
the note, and before noon received a bundle, containing 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


353 


the clothing she wished, but no change from the note. 
How long she was to remain confined, she did not know. 
Each day that passed brought with it the hope that some 
friendly face would appear at the door, but none came. 
Letter after letter Madeleine wrote to Dr. Maginn, her 
father, Archbishop Hughes, and even Monsieur Laujac — • 
of whose whereabouts she knew nothing. Before sailing 
he had written to her, and directed the letter to her home 
on Fifth Avenue; but her father, not knowing her ad- 
dress, could not forward it. All her letters were detained 
at the Provost Marshal’s office. Had Madeleine only known 
this she would have been spared many bitter reflections. 
“ Now I am arrested, even my own father shuns me. All 
Monsieur Laujac’s pretensions go for just what they were 
worth — nothing. Even good Dr. Maginn, whom of all, I 
most trusted, avoids all contact with the prisoner in No. 
13. It is just what I thought. Youth, beauty, and suc- 
cess, make many friends. Let but the tip of the finger of 
suspicion point at one, and like a lot of terrified rats, each 
scuttles into his hole.” By this time Madeleine had ad- 
justed herself to the regular routine of prison life. Her 
meals were brought regularly, and many little dainties 
were purchased by Mrs. Cram, who simply doubled the 
price for service. The weeks rolled by, Madeleine heard, 
occasionally, through Mrs. Cram, what was going on out- 
side her narrow world. Newspapers were not allowed, al- 
though she occasionally secured one. She learned that 
both the North and the South claimed victories, and the 
end was apparently as far off as ever. To a mind like 
Madeleine’s this enforced idleness was simply torture. 
Accustomed as she was to command, possessed of a supply 
of energy sufficient to have stocked three ordinary women, 
this constant repression within the limits of her seven-by- 
nine room, with none but stupid Mrs. Cram, upon whom 
to exercise her talents, it was no wonder she moped and 
23 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


354 

pined for freedom. Thoughts of escape filled her sleeping 
and waking hours. She had no doubt but money would 
win over Mrs. Cram, but there was the hall guard, then 
the guard on the main floor, and lastly the outside guard 
to be corrupted. Madeleine quickly decided that escape 
that way was impossible. Her windows were barred, and 
egress there was not to be thought of. One night while 
pondering over the matter, she heard a tapping on the 
wall near her bed, then it ceased for a while, commenced 
again, then stopped. She knew there were persons in the 
next room, recently placed there. Taking off her slipper 
she struck the wall with it, in about the place where she 
had heard the taps, which were instantly renewed. Then 
came the sound of boring and in the course of ten minutes 
the blade of a knife penetrated through the plaster. 
Madeleine assisted in widening the hole until it was large 
enough to put a folded paper through which fell upon her 
table; quickly opening it, she read that the occupants of 
the adjoining room were two Englishmen accused of run- 
ning the blockade. In return, Madeleine wrote that she 
was a young Southern lady unjustly confined there, and 
unable to communicate with her friends. The correspond- 
ence thus begun, continued for a number of days, and 
finally a note passed through the hole — which by the way, 
Madeleine kept concealed with a plug of bread softened 
with water and moulded to fit the aperture — informing 
her that they had persuaded the guard to mail letters for 
them. Madeleine had before tried this and failed ; Mrs. 
Cram had taken her letters, but never mailed them. Act- 
ing upon the suggestion made, Madeleine wrote Dr. Maginn 
a long letter, and begged of him to do his utmost to have 
her released, telling him to use money without stint. This 
letter folded up was easily passed to her neighbors, and 
the next morning, she was informed that the guard had 
mailed it while off duty. Buoyed up by this, for a few 


355 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 

days Madeleine was comparatively cheerful; but no answer 
came, for Dr. Maginn did not receive the letter for some 
weeks. One morning she was surprised by a visit from 
the Provost Marshal. After inquiring as to how she was 
treated, he broached the subject of her release, and when 
pressed, confessed, that he was sent by no less a person 
than Mr. Stanton himself. 

“ Why did Mr. Stanton send you here ? ” inquired Made- 
leine, “ he knows he has no proof against me, it is all sus- 
picion, nothing more. Why am I treated in this manner ? 
Have I no rights ? I am here without the sanction of any 
court, confined in a cell simply because of a whim of your 
War Secretary, but wait; my time will yet come, Mr. Pro- 
vost Marshal, then let Mr. Stanton beware of the woman 
he has so unjustly imprisoned.” 

“You do Mr. Stanton a wrong, Miss Cateret. It was 
with the sanction of the President and Mr. Seward you 
were confined here. In proof of his good-will I am here 
to offer you your freedom.” 

“What!” exclaimed Madeleine, “ my freedom ! now?” 

“ One moment. Miss Cateret, he only asks that you will 
take the oath of allegiance to the United States Govern- 
ment. You shall be free this hour.” The exultant look 
faded from Madeleine’s face. 

“And so Mr. Stanton thinks he can buy me, does he ? 
Go back to your master, Mr. Provost Marshal, and tell him 
I despise him ! I’ll rot in this room before I will accept 
my freedom at such a price. Go now, your presence hero 
is hateful to me,” and Madeleine drew herself up, her 
hands clinched, and her pallid face set and rigid. The 
Provost Marshal withdrew. Barely had his footsteps 
ceased resounding along the hall, when “Bravo! Bravo!” 
came through the hole Tom the room of the Englishmen, 
who had heard the whole conversation, and broke out 
with “ Dixie Land,” to which Madeleine responded in her 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


356 

rich contralto with “ Maryland, my Maryland.” No word 
from Dr. Maginn! Madeleine was in despair; her health 
began to fail, her appetite was gone, she hardly slept, and 
the slightest exertion wearied her. Her condition being 
made known to Superintendent Wood, he permitted her 
to walk twice a day in the corridor, and after dark, two or 
three times a week, in the exercising ground outside the 
walls of the building. Under this humane treatment her 
health was partially restored. It was now autumn, and 
she had been sent there early in June. At times it seemed 
to her she must become insane; she sat for hours staring 
at the wall, her mind vacant and wandering; when Mrs. 
Cram brought her meals, she used every artifice to per- 
suade her to stay and talk. So necessary is human com- 
panionship; the strongest mind, the most well-stored brain, 
is inefficient to supply the want which comes from lack of 
personal association. Human kind are gregarious individ- 
uals, they cannot do without each other. 

Madeleine was in one of her bitterest moods one morn- 
ing, when Mrs. Cram brought her breakfast. After plac- 
ing the tray upon the table, she unbuttoned the bosom of 
her dress, and drew out a letter which she laid beside 
Madeleine’s plate. To spring forward, seize the letter and 
tear it open, was but the work of a moment. “ Don’t let 
any one know you’ve got it, ‘ sweetie,’ it’s as much as my 
place is worth,” whispered Mrs. Cram in a hoarse voice. 
But Madeleine was oblivious, and buried in her letter, 
which was from Dr. Maginn, acknowledging the receipt of 
her letter mailed by the guard. This was the first in- 
formation he had received from her since her disappear- 
ance. He had ransacked Washington and all the neigh- 
borhood for some trace. At “ Old Capitol ” he was told 
there was no woman there. When her letter arrived at 
New York, he was in Canada and that had occasioned the 
delay. Her father was well, Monsieur Laujac had, for 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


357 


some reason, returned to Europe — this did not disturb 
Madeleine’s serenity — he would use every effort in his 
power to procure her release; this would be brought her 
by the woman connected with the prison. Inclosed were 
several bank notes for large amounts, which Madeleine' 
found very useful; her own funds having run low. “ Well, 
after all, there is one who remembers me, now we shall see, 
Mr. Stanton/” soliloquized the young lady as she paced 
the room, having forgotten entirely to eat her breakfast. 
Several days slipped by, before she received another letter. 
This one informed her that strong pressure was being 
brought to bear upon the President to secure her release. 
Secretary Stanton was very stubborn, but sooner or later 
they would effect it. Meanwhile she must keep up her 
courage. 

“ Keep up my courage,” laughed Madeleine cynically to 
herself. “After six months and more of this life, if I am not 
dead, it’s useless to tell me to keep up my courage. I am 
become an automaton. I eat, sleep and breathe, what more 
could I wish for ? 4 Courage ! ’ let my dear Dr. Maginn 
spend a few months here, and learn what courage is. My 
sole comfort, when the next meal is to be, and my only 
entertainment, the cry of 4 fresh fish/ as new prisoners are 
brought in with Stanton’s drag net. Patriotism is a 
costly jewel when it involves one’s personal liberty.” But 
the wires were being strongly pulled to effect Madeleine’s 
release. Dr. Maginn was an old friend of Secretary Seward, 
and had aided him in many a political battle; although he 
himself was under suspicion and dare not go to Secretary 
Stanton openly, he did have an interview with the Presi- 
dent, and completely won him over by the personal mag- 
netism of his presence and manner. 

“ He is such a companionable chap, and his laugh brought 
tears to my eyes,” said Mr. Lincoln to Mr. Seward. “I 
learned some new stories, and haven’t had such an evening 


358 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


of relaxation for a long while. By the way, tell Stanton 
he must let that girl go or I will — if he don’t object.” 

Before Secretary Seward saw Mr. Stanton again, he had 
an interview with another friend of Madeleine, Archbish- 
op Hughes — who came on from New York purposely. 

“Mr. Secretary,” said the venerable Archbishop, “has 
that young girl not been sufficiently punished, upon merely 
the suspicion that she favored the South ? What is the 
proof against her ? You have none, Mr. Stanton has none, 
this is altogether too arbitrary. You will alienate the 
friendship of thousands of Catholics, if this affair is 
known. And it will be; the young lady is too prominent 
in Catholic circles; advise him, my dear Secretary, to a 
more conciliatory course, or he will array against himself a 
power which he can no more resist than he could the 
whirlwind.” Mr. Seward did not repeat these words to 
Mr. Stanton, he knew his man too well. Madeleine would 
have been spirited away to Ft. Lafayette, or elsewhere, but 
he recognized the fact that the Archbishop had implied a 
threat, and Mr. Seward knew too well the Catholic power 
in the North not to pay heed to it. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


359 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

Madeleine’s release. 

“ Come, Stanton, give np the obstinate idea you have, of 
further punishing the girl,” said Secretary Seward, as Mr. 
Stanton visited him at his office one day, to ask for a favor 
which the Secretary of State could confer. “ Release the 
girl, and I will see your friend gets the contract. You 
will have all the Catholics in the North down on us like a 
parcel of wasps. Look here!” Mr. Seward produced a 
paragraph cut from a Catholic paper which read : 

“ It is time this senseless abuse of power was abrogated. 
The right of ‘ habeas corpus ’ should be restored, or worse 
will come of it. We are more slaves than the very blacks 
themselves.” Dr. Maginn had written the article from 
which this was taken, and had caused its insertion in the 
paper. 

"Well, Seward, have your own way, but mark me! this 
girl will cause us trouble yet. I will sign the release and 
send it to you,” he said as he left the office. 

One morning shortly before Christmas, when Madeleine 
almost in despair had begun again to rail at her friends’ 
lukewarmness, the world, and the fates generally, she heard 
an unusual noise at the door, her heart stood still, for a 
moment, as the door opened, disclosing to view, the face 
of Dr. Maginn, and behind him Superintendent Wood. 

" My poor child,” exclaimed the good doctor, seizing her 
hand as she came toward him, “ at last I bring you free- 
dom; how pale and worn you look! I thank God that 
you are at least well; we will soon bring back the roses.” 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


360 

A few months before Madeleine would have jumped for 
joy at the announcement the doctor had just made; but 
" hope deferred,” had induced a feeling of apathy, and she 
neither trembled nor burst into tears as he feared. 

“Am I at liberty to go now, Superintendent ? ” she 
asked, looking toward Superintendent Wood. 

" Entirely, Miss Cateret, the order for your release is in 
my pocket, signed by Mr. Stanton.” 

" Then let us go, doctor, I am sick of this wretched 
place,” said Madeleine. 

"Is there nothing you wish to take with you, Made- 
leine ? ” inquired the doctor, always thoughtful. 

" Nothing, nothing, doctor, only let us get away as soon 
as possible. Mrs. Cram can have whatever is here, Super- 
intendent.” In an instant she had put on her bonnet, 
tied the strings, without one look at the glass, and seized 
the doctor’s arm. 

"Good-by, Miss Cateret,” said Superintendent Wood, "I 
hope you will have no hard feelings against us here; we 
have tried to be as lenient as possible, but our prisoners 
are not all like you.” 

"I have no fault to find with you, Mr. Wood, but your 
superiors may yet hear from me ! Good-by ! ” 

A carriage stood at the door, and Madeleine entered, 
accompanied by the doctor. 

"Drive to Willard’s,” was the doctor’s order. "I think 
the hotel will be best, you can rest there, attend to your 
wardrobe, and arrange your plans. I will see you again 
this evening. Am I right, Madeleine ? ” 

" Yes, yes, anything, so it is not a prison, and I can feel 
free once more.” When they arrived at the hotel, the 
doctor registered for her, and after seeing her installed in 
a room he had already reserved, he departed. No sooner 
had Madeleine reached her room, than all her old energy 
seemed to return. Instead of a " good cry,” which most 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


36l 

girls of her age would have indulged in, as the result of 
the reaction from the morning’s excitement, she ordered a 
bath to rid herself, as she told the doctor, of all reminis- 
cences of the “ Old Capitol ” life ; then a dainty breakfast, 
when soon afterward a carriage was called, and several 
hours she spent in shopping. When the doctor returned 
in the evening, he saw a different woman from the forlorn, 
pallid creature he had escorted from prison. Two good 
meals, and a day spent in the open air, put, as he expressed 
it, a “ new face on her.” Now she was the old Madeleine 
once more, only more mature, more self-poised than ever, 
and, as he soon found, absolutely regardless of any one ex- 
cept Madeleine Cateret. Added to this, was a determina- 
tion to do some injury — if the opportunity came in her 
way — to those who had been instrumental in confining her 
all these months. 

“And so Monsieur Laujac has returned to Europe, has 
he, doctor ? Rather sudden was it not ? ” 

“ Quite so, but he had some reports to make to those 
who employed him, which could not be delayed; he left 
many remembrances for you. What had become of you 
we could not ascertain. Mother Laning thought you had 
gone to Richmond. Your father thought you had been 
murdered — by the way does he know you are released ? ” 

“ I sent him a message this morning, 1 presume he will 
be here to-morrow,” said Madeleine quietly. “ Tell me how 
things are going for the South. I know in a general way 
that we are being overwhelmed by numbers, that Europe 
has failed us, and many of our Generals have been killed. 
Is there anything worse ? ” 

“ Nothing could be much worse, except absolute failure; 
the outlook is gloomy indeed. The wealth and power of 
the North combined with their unanimity, surprises us. 
No sacrifice is too great, no expenditure too lavish for them 
to enter upon. The revolution will turn out to be a re- 
bellion, unless some great stroke is accomplished.” 


362 


NOT TO TIIE SWIFT. 


“ You say that, doctor, in a way which suggests that 
something is on the ‘ tapis/ What is it ? I know you are 
dying to tell me/’ said Madeleine smiling. 

“ Well, there is a scheme on foot ” — the doctor arose and 
closed the door which was slightly ajar — “ did you receive 
a communication from Mr. Benjamin before you were ar- 
rested, mentioning the fact that it might be necessary for 
you to go to Canada ? ” 

“ Yes, the last one received, the very day I was arrested,” 
replied Madeleine, opening her eyes. 

“ Had you not been arrested, you would have been asked 
to meet Beverly Tucker, Jacob Thompson, and others in 
reference to that very scheme. The fact is, Madeleine, 
that while the South is still fighting, the leaders see in- 
evitable defeat before them. Success is impossible, unless 
the North is utterly demoralized. Nothing will accom- 
plish this so largely as the disappearance of their leaders. 
The scheme was to kidnap the entire Cabinet, and place 
them in confinement, in some secure place, and make the 
best terms possible.” 

“ That was a glorious idea, doctor, who conceived that ? ” 

" Heaven only knows, it came from Richmond. But it 
has been almost given up; at least, it has not been dis- 
cussed lately. The plan needs a leader, and none has been 
discussed. It is a great undertaking, and requires time 
and money, as well as the selection of a shrewd, daring 
manager.” 

“ Has no one been spoken of as a leader, doctor ? ” in- 
quired Madeleine, very earnestly — so earnestly that he 
almost thought she would apply for the place. The doctor 
hesitated an instant, seeming to doubt the propriety of 
answering the question. 

“ Yes, Madeleine, there is a young man, often seen in 
Washington, a thorough patriot, almost a fanatic, who has 
been discussed, as one who might prove worthy. Nothing 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


363 

has been said to him, in fact the subject has been dropped, 
at least for the time. Whether it could be revived, or if 
so, whether it would amount to anything, remains to be 
considered. You know another election comes next fall; 
if we can prolong the war, we may elect a President who 
will favor the South. But I must leave you now, the day 
has been a hard one for you, and you need rest.” 

“ But, doctor, who is the man you look to as the leader 
of this enterprise, tell me his name ?” 

“It is of no use, my dear, nothing can be done now, but 
I will give you his name, and you will know him for a whole- 
souled Southerner, when you meet him, if you ever do. It 
is Wilkes Booth, the actor; have you ever seen him ?” 

“Not that I remember,” replied Madeleine a little 
abruptly. 

Dr. Maginn left her in this mood, and despite her com- 
fortable bed, the first she had occupied for a long while, 
she did not sleep. The scheme of kidnapping the Cabinet 
officers had taken hold of her mind, perhaps, because she ‘ 
had been spirited away so easily. All night she rolled and 
tossed, and only after a refreshing bath in the morning 
did she feel like herself. 

The winter in Washington promised to be a very gay 
one, there were many officers on duty then and many on 
leave. Money was plenty, and lavishly spent; Madeleine 
seemed entirely devoted to pleasure. Few or none knew 
of her arrest, and she was invited to every reception, din- 
ner, or theatre party of any note. She was known as an 
heiress, and that she was extremely beautiful, none denied. 
She had also suddenly developed an extraordinary taste 
for fine raiment. She lived with her father in rooms at 
Willard’s, kept her own carriage and liveried servants, and 
was in every way entirely “ chic.” 

Those who had known Madeleine as an ardent Southern 
woman, could not have thought her so now. She seemed 


364 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


to visit mainly among Northerners; the wives of Senators, 
or officers, and even of Members of the Cabinet she counted 
among her friends. Upon several occasions she had been 
in company, when Secretary Stanton was present, but this 
did not occur often, the Secretary was not given to social 
amenities; he was too busy. Upon one of these occasions, 
she was very near being presented to him, but the stony 
stare she cast in his direction, as she led her hostess away 
from his immediate vicinity, made it too apparent that that 
was an honor she did not crave. When she secured the 
attention of any member of the household of the Cabinet 
officers, she seemed possessed of a desire for the minutest 
information of their habits; excusing herself on the ground 
of curiosity as to the manner of living of such great people. 
She never seemed tired of entertaining or being enter- 
tained. One would have thought the fiend of unrest had 
possession of Madeleine’s spirit. 

One evening, at a reception given by a well-known citi- 
zen of Washington, somewhat noted for his Southern pro-* 
clivities, while promenading through the room on the arm 
of a young captain of artillery she remarked a young man, 
with a strikingly handsome face and elegant manners, fol- 
lowing her constantly with his eyes. At first this seemed 
to her accidental, later it annoyed her somewhat. 

“ Captain Cushing,” said Madeleine to her companion, 
“look me straight in the face a moment. I wish you 
would tell me, when you can, without being observed who 
the gentleman is, standing in the doorway of the next 
room and, talking with Governor Andrew; now let us walk 
again.” 

The Captain took a quick observation. 

“You mean the handsome fellow with black hair and 
mustache, Miss Cateret ? ” 

“ I think so,” replied Madeleine, but without looking in 
that direction. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


365 

“That is Booth the actor, Wilkes Booth, a brother of 
Edwin Booth. They say he has a trouble with his throat, 
and it is doubtful if he can act again.” 

“ That must be a sad outlook for an actor, Captain. Now 
in your profession it wouldn’t be of so much importance, 
the bugle does your calling.” 

“ That’s all very well, Miss Cateret, an actor can make 
up for the loss, by his acting, but who would cuss my 
darkey servant, when he brought me cold water to shave 
with, or salt in the coffee in place of sugar ? ” 

“ Why, as for that, I have heard you officers resort to 
boot throwing, as a corrective.” 

“ Boot throwing is all very well in its way. Miss Cateret, 
and not to be despised, but, the use of pure, vigorous Anglo- 
Saxon, undiluted, is much preferable,” retorted the Cap- 
tain. At this moment they were very near Governor An- 
drew and Mr. Booth, and Madeleine stopped, compelling 
her cavalier to do likewise. 

"I should like to know Governor Andrew, Captain 
Cushing, will you not present me ? ” she said. 

“ Certainly, Miss Cateret. Governor Andrew — I beg 
your pardon, Mr. Booth — will you allow me to present 
Miss Cateret, who is anxious to know the Governor ? Miss 
Cateret, Mr. Booth.” It was all very quickly done. Whether 
the young officer discerned that Miss Cateret wished to 
know Mr. Booth, or not, it is impossible to say, but the 
introduction was unavoidable. Presently the quartette 
changed sides, and Captain Cushing was conversing with 
Governor Andrew, and Miss Cateret with Mr. Booth. 

Wilkes Booth was a ver} r handsome man. He had a 
good figure, well developed, his hair raven black, worn as 
the fashion was then rather long; and being somewhat 
curly, it made his head look large. His eyes were large, 
dark and interesting, and could either sparkle in a frenzy 
of passion, or melt in dreamy reverie, as he gazed upon the 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


366 

one he loved. Ilis face was rather pale, in marked con- 
trast to his heavy black mustache and hair. In manner, 
he was quiet and self-possessed — when not excited — but 
excitement seemed natural to him, and he was easily 
aroused. When in this mood, he became somewhat stagey 
in his bearing, and often declaimed loudly in a ranting 
manner. He was not a man of any great intellectual 
qualities, and his breeding seemed to partake more of con- 
tinual restraint, than to be the result of innate gentleness, 
and consideration for the rights of others. Such was the 
man whom Madeleine met on that evening — a man destined 
to cover himself with everlasting opprobrium. 

Their chat together was a pleasant one. Madeleine ex- 
erted all her grand power of fascination to entrap him, and 
he, perhaps a willing victim, and somewhat vain, yielded 
easily to her seductive wiles, and became a worshipper at 
Circe’s shrine. 

When the gathering broke up upon this eventful even- 
ing for Wilkes Booth, he had accepted an invitation to 
call upon Miss Cateret at her apartments at Willard’s. 
The appointment was faithfully kept, and once more a 
foolish moth hovered around the glittering flame, which 
later proved its death warrant. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


367 


CHAPTER XL. 

PREPARING THE VICTIM. 

Swiftly sped the winter days of 1863-64 in Washington. 
The palmiest days of Rome of old, were not more filled 
with luxury, iniquity, passion, and hypocrisy, than those 
which marked this epoch of a Nation’s struggle for exist- 
ence. 

Money was poured out like water; the very street boys 
had their pockets filled with greenbacks. Vice flaunted 
in attractive garb along Pennsylvania Avenue, side by side 
with churchly vestments; and the Church was not dis- 
mayed. Glitter and gold were everywhere. Modesty was 
a lost art. Sensation followed sensation. Crime was 
suckled at the breast of necessity, and corruption lurked 
in camp and cabinet. How the " Old One ” must have 
chuckled, as he marked the flourishing crop he was about 
to garner! 

Acquaintance between Madeleine and Wilkes Booth ri- 
pened into intimacy, but prudent Madeleine no longer per- 
mitted his visits at the hotel. Winter passed and spring 
came. As far as appearance was concerned, Madeleine 
conducted herself so discreetly, that the spies or detectives, 
which Secretary Stanton put upon her track immediately 
after her release, were dismissed. 

"The young lady has had her lesson,” said the War 
Secretary to Mr. Seward, “ I don’t think we shall have any 
more trouble with her.” 

Acting under the advice of Hr. Maginn she carried on 
no correspondence with Southern leaders. The hint the 


NOT TO the: swift. 


368 

doctor had thrown out about the abduction of the entire 
Cabinet, was constantly working in Madeleine’s mind. It 
was this which had led her, upon all occasions, to inquire 
about the habits of the different Ministers; and it was this 
which induced her to seek an introduction to Mr. Booth. 
A thorough study of his character convinced her that he was 
daring, unscrupulous, and vain. Disappointed in his chosen 
vocation, he sought some mode of distinguishing himself be- 
fore the people. This insatiable craving for notoriety made 
him ripe for any deed; and especially one which would ele- 
vate him to the position of the savior of the South, for he 
was fanatical beyond all conception. Not one word had 
Madeleine breathed to him of any plan in which he should 
figure. They often discussed the position of the South, and 
the prospects of peace without humiliation. They were by 
turns jubilant or despondent, as the tide of battle ran for 
or against their side. The summer gradually wore on. 
A little diversion in favor of the South occurred, when 
General Early made his raid on Washington. One morn- 
ing Madeleine awoke to find the hotel filled with excite- 
ment; the night before, there w r ere rumors that Early was 
marching on the Capital — having slipped out of Shenan- 
doah Valley, while General Grant was pressing forward 
toward Kichmond. The morning confirmed the rumor, 
and every available man was pressed into service. Quarter- 
masters’ clerks in tight boots, and civilian’s dress, were 
ordered to shoulder their long neglected muskets. The 
War Department, the ordinance officers, the invalid corps, 
and all the rag-tag and bobtail attached to the military 
officers, were ordered to the front; and a more motley 
throng, it would be hard to conceive of. It was Vanity 
Fair in regimentals ; and had General Early only known it, 
he could as easily have walked into Washington and taken 
up his quarters at the “ White House,” as he could have 
dispersed a straggling band of foragers he happened to 


NOT TO THE SVVIET. 


369 

meet. There was no question about it, Early was there, 
and the dainty clerks, and military hangers on— now for 
the first time in their lives brought face to face with a sol- 
dier — shook in their boots. The streets were filled with 
orderlies flying back and forth, and the wires were kept 
hot with messages to General Grant for reinforcements. 
A night sortie, planned by some "hundred day” Colonel, 
resulted in Early’s veterans — who until then had hardly 
fired a shot — turning, and administering a thorough drub- 
bing to the doughty heroes, who dared confront soldiers 
with scores of battles to their credit. But the matter was 
serious. With five thousand holiday soldiers inside the 
breastworks, and eighteen thousand veterans outside, the 
capture of the city was a matter of half a day, and the loss 
of a few hundred men. What was it stayed Early’s hand? 
The Government archives were being packed up prepara- 
tory to sending them to New York, but the city with all 
its valuables, the Treasury with its millions would be there, 
what would happen ? These careless soldiers would drink, 
plunder and burn. Men and women were frantic with 
excitement, when all at once, the Signal Corps were seen 
at work at the “ Soldiers’ Home.” “ Transports are com- 
ing up the river! They are filled with soldiers! Now they 
are landing! It is the Sixth Corps! Washington is saved! 
Thank God!” With colors and corps badges flying, di- 
vision after division of the “ Old Sixth,” passed up the 
avenue, smiling, confident, and rather delighted at this 
little frolic. There was no massing behind breastworks: 
straight outside they marched, deployed skirmishers, and 
went to work. Early had missed his opportunity, and his 
forces melted away in the distance, as he saw division after 
division of the “ Fighting Sixth,” take their positions. He 
knew his place was not there. The great raid had proved 
a failure, all due to General Early’s lack of push. Had he 
succeeded in entering the city, as he might easily have 
2 4 


370 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


done, irreparable injury would have been the result. No 
power could have restrained the hands of his lawless sol- 
diers; and before night the Capital would have been in 
flames. 

Upon the evening of that day, in the parlor of a house 
on II Street, were gathered Dr. Maginn, Wilkes Booth, 
Madeleine Cateret, and Mrs. Surratt. Booth was in a fear- 
ful rage, and had evidently been drinking. 

“ What a stupid blundering fool that Early is. He knew 
there were no troops here, he knew none could get here 
within forty-eight hours, and yet he went into camp, to 
‘take a rest/” Muttering to himself, this foolish, ill-bal- 
anced man strode up and down the parlor, until Madeleine, 
who had all this time been in deep conversation with the 
others, took him by the arm and led him aside. 

“ Mr. Booth, you are too impatient, sit down by me a 
few moments, I wish to talk with you,” and Madeleine in- 
dicated a sofa by the window. 

“ Now, Mr. Booth, I intend confiding a secret to you — a 
secret which, if known, would imperil the safety, and per- 
haps the lives of all present here in the room.” Mr. Booth 
looked at her in amazement. “ What would you say, if I 
told you a great scheme was on foot, backed up by Secre- 
tary Benjamin, Mr. Davis, Beverly Tucker, and George H. 
Sanders to kidnap President Lincoln, Mr. Seward, and 
Mr. Stanton, thus demoralizing the North, and enabling 
us to make the best of terms for the conclusion of peace ? 
It is proposed to accomplish this, and when they are 
securely hidden, make propositions to release them, and 
unite with the North in expelling the French from Mexico, 
leaving the entire question of the demands made by the 
South, to be decided by Congress after the election in 
November. We will see that a Democratic President is 
elected, and with the many Northern sympathizers we 
have, who are tired of the war, this will not be difficult to 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


37 


do— wait one moment,” seeing Mr. Booth about to speak 
— “ there is more than this, the legislature at Richmond 
has voted five million dollars in gold to be used for this 
purpose, and to win over Northern men. Now, Mr. Booth, 
tell me what you think of this plan,” she said trium- 
phantly. 

“ Glorious, Miss Cateret, glorious ! This is the best thing 
I have heard yet. Something like this is needed to stir 
up the whole country. Why, it will completely demoralize 
them, they won't know what to do. Who is to be the 
leader of this enterprise? I suppose a leader is necessary. 
You cannot abduct these men, surrounded by attendants, 
and even guards, as Stanton is, without some very definite 
and well-worked-out plans. It will require a dozen men 
at least, to accomplish this. And then where do you ex- 
pect to put them ? ” 

“ One question at a time, my friend,” replied Madeleine 
coolly. “ This matter has been broached at Richmond, and 
thoroughly discussed there. First we want a leader and 
we have selected one. He must be a man of resources, of 
great daring, for it may mean death to him, of undoubted 
patriotism, and unimpeachable honor, for the betraying 
of our plans, means immense wealth to the traitor, and 
death to the conspirators. We think we have found such 
a man ; an avenger of Southern wrongs. Are you willing 
to work under such a leader, Mr. Booth ? Remember! 
you take your life in your hand, the ‘ Yankees 9 will hang 
you as high as Haman if you fail.” 

A look of ferocity came over Booth’s face at the mention 
of the treatment he would receive. 

“ They never shall hang Wilkes Booth, Miss Cateret. 
If I fail, no man captures me alive. If your leader be only 
half as determined as I, success is sure. Now I am with 
you, tell me the name of your leader, I would know him.” 
Upon this Madeleine seized his two hands. 


372 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


“ I believed you would join us, I was sure of it. I saw 
enthusiasm written on your face. You wish to know the 
leader in this perilous enterprise, the born patriot who will 
save our country? Then I will tell you! ‘Thou art the 
man/ 99 She pronounced these words so solemnly, and 
with such intensity, that Booth started. 

“ What ? I am the man ? Do you mean this, Miss 
Cateret ? ” he ejaculated, then drawing himself up proudly, 
he strutted up and down before her, his hand thrust into 
the breast of his coat with the most tragic air imaginable. 
“ I am the man, I am the man,” he reiterated, then paus- 
ing before Madeleine, said : 

“ I shall distinguish myself in this matter, I feel it. 
Wilkes Booth will be known wherever the sun shines. 
This is the opportunity to make myself famous! The 
world shall hear of me ! 99 

“ I am sure of it, Mr. Booth,” said Madeleine. Then 
thrusting her arm through his she led him to the opposite 
side of the room, where Dr. Maginn and Mrs. Surratt — 
ostensibly engaged in an earnest conversation, but in reality 
watching Booth and Madeleine — were awaiting the result 
of her persuasive tongue. 

“ Here is the man who will lead us, my friends, congrat- 
ulate him, now we are sure of success;” and while saying 
this Madeleine gazed so admiringly upon Mr. Booth that 
the color came to his pale face, and he felt himself the 
chosen champion of Southern rights. Madeleine had 
worked cunningly upon his vanity and egotism, and now 
she petted her hero as she would have petted Hugo had 
he yielded to her blandishments. But behind Madeleine 
was the good doctor, who selected the victims, provided 
the temptress, brought them together, fired both with en- 
thusiasm, and then, advised caution. 

“ My dear Booth, this is a tremendous undertaking for 
you to carry through, it will take months of preparation, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


373 


the most careful judgment in the selection of your assist- 
ants, and complete knowledge of the habits of the men 
you wish to seize. The plan is almost too dangerous to 
ask anybody to attempt; none but a master mind can carry 
it through successfully. Money will be furnished without 
stint. No oil-speculation you ever attempted will prove 
as profitable, but you had better not decide off-hand. Take 
time to think it over. I fear Miss Caterers ardor in the 
matter has outstripped her judgment, and she is plunging 
you into a sea of misery you do not contemplate.” Thus 
alternately calming and exciting his victim, good Dr. 
Maginn led him on until he declared that “ neither heaven, 
nor hell, should stay his hand, now he had pledged his 
word.” 

“Well, well, my dear boy, sleep over it, if to-morrow 
you hold a different mind no harm is done, you will not 
betray the confidence imposed in you, I know.” Booth's 
face flushed with anger at the doctor's suggestion that he 
keep their secret. 

“ I am a Booth, doctor, and a Booth knows neither fear 
nor dishonor ! ” he said hotly. 

“ Forgive me, my brave compatriot, I never doubted your 
honor, I only wished to caution you, for other lives than 
yours ” — and he looked suggestively at Madeleine — “ would 
pay the forfeit.” 

At this moment a door opened from another room, and 
Mrs. Surratt's son, John H. Surratt, came in, and was pre- 
sented to Madeleine and Dr. Maginn. He knew Booth 
well. Young Surratt was a very gentlemanly young fellow, 
said to be rather wild, but of good appearance, and polished 
manners. He seemed at once attracted toward Madeleine, 
whom he had never met before; and she, ever ready to ex- 
ercise her fascination, encouraged the young man, to Mr. 
Booth's intense disgust. 


374 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


CHAPTER XLI. 

THE GREAT CONSPIRACY. 

To relate all the graphic incidents of this great conspir- 
acy from its inception — not in Mrs. Surratt’s parlor on 
H Street, not even in Richmond, but in the minds of a 
body of men, who, with the cunning of fiends, and the 
judicial calmness of earth’s highest tribunal, coolly con- 
signed Abraham Lincoln to the tender mercies of the as- 
sassin — would require the pen of a Walter Scott. The 
necessities of the story only require the general incidents, 
which surrounded the great mystery, to be developed in 
such a way as to exhibit the connection which existed be- 
tween our characters and the plotters. There is no doubt 
that the first intention of those engaged in the scheme, 
was, as we have stated, the abduction, not the killing, of 
the President. After that meeting at Mrs. Surratt’s, 
Wilkes Booth disappeared for a time from Washington. 
The events of the summer in the field were exciting enough 
to paralyze the efforts of the conspirators. Sheridan’s tri- 
umphs in the valley, one following the other in quick suc- 
cession, made the North so jubilant that it was difficult to 
learn what aid in the election could be depended upon to 
defeat Mr. Lincoln. General McClellan had been nomi- 
nated by the Democratic party, then followed the prestige 
of Sheridan’s victories, and hope began to fail. One morn- 
ing Madeleine, who had not heard for a month or more 
from either Booth or Dr. Maginn, was surprised by a visit 
from the latter, who carried a small hand bag. 

“ Madeleine, can you leave to-day for Montreal ? ” he in- 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 375 

quired with more excitement in his manner than he had . 
ever before evinced in her presence. 

“ Certainly, doctor, if necessary. Must I go alone, or 
shall I take papa with me ? ” 

‘ Better alone, my child, although I place a great re- 
sponsibility upon you. This bag contains a half-million 
dollars in greenbacks; it must be delivered to one of our 
trusted friends at Montreal. You will probably meet Mr. 
Booth there. Urge upon him the necessity for immediate 
action; that accursed man Sheridan has swept all before 
him in the valley, and can now assist Grant. We have the 
consent of Mr. Lincoln that certain agents shall have lib- 
erty to treat for peace on the basis I expressed to you, 
when we first enlisted Mr. Booth in our plans. Jeff Davis 
will send Mr. Frank Blair to Washington to confer with 
the President. This money must be in the hands of Mr. 
Thompson, at St. Lawrence Hall, in Montreal, at the earli- 
est possible opportunity. To-morrow I leave for Rich- 
mond. You must bring Mr. Booth back with you; he has 
already selected two or three men for our enterprise, and 
tells me he can depend upon them. Here is a cipher dis- 
patch I received to-day from Richmond. ‘ Convey money 
secretly, speedily, to St. Lawrence Hall, Montreal, there is 
yet time to colonize many voters before November. A 
blow will shortly be struck which will astonish the North. 
Our friends are hard at work/ 

“ You see the necessity for immediate action, and I have 
no one but you to depend upon. Do not sleep nor allow 
this bag out of your possession. Upon arriving at Mon- 
treal, go immediately to the hotel and place this note in 
the hands of the clerk for Mr. Thompson. Secure a room 
and wait. Now, one last word: here is a little reel” — * 
handing it to her — "with Mr. Thompson’s card you will 
receive a strip of paper; wind it around here so that it fits 
properly, and you will find a sentence which will convince 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


37*5 

you he is the proper person for you to deliver the bag to. 
God bless you, my child, much depends upon your cool- 
ness and secrecy,” saying which, he left Madeleine to make 
her preparations. 

After he had gone she picked up the bag which he had 
placed upon the table. It was not very heavy, evidently 
the bills were of large denomination. As she handled it, 
a smile stole over her face. 

“ It is a fortunate thing for the Confederacy, and for 
you, my dear doctor, that Madeleine Cateret is provided 
with sufficient of this world’s goods, or this half a million 
would never find its way to Montreal. It’s a large sum, 
too, what have I to expect here? The game is about 
played, the South cannot win, and Madeleine Cateret can- 
not mount the pedestal she hoped for. If it wasn’t that 
I want to get even with that brute Stanton,” she mused. 
“ Let me see, I’ll try my buttons. Montreal, Europe, Mon- 
treal, Europe, Montreal, Europe, Montreal. Well ” — with 
a deep sigh, “ it’s Montreal after all.” Did those buttons 
decide Lincoln’s fate ? Had it come out “ Europe,” would 
she have fled, and taken the money with her ? If she had 
done so, could the plot have been carried out ? Upon what 
a slight turning point hinges the fate of man! 

Having decided the question in her own mind, Madeleine 
packed a small bag, put on a plain dark suit, and telling 
her father, who no longer questioned her movements, that 
she would be away for a few days, she entered a carriage 
and started for the station. Stopping on the way, she 
purchased a small chain and padlock. Passing the chain 
through the handles of the bag she snapped the lock, and 
concealing the chain with her left hand in her muff, she 
entered the cars. From the moment she left Washington, 
until she arrived at Montreal, the chain was never removed. 
A few sandwiches, which she ate with her left hand always 
concealed, managed to suffice her, until she reached her 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


377 


destinaton. Without a moment’s delay she drove to St. 
Lawrence Hall, and secured a room, handing the clerk at 
the same time the letter for Mr. Thompson. Securely 
locked in her room, she removed the chain, and placed the 
bag between the mattresses of the bed. This done she or- 
dered supper in her room, and sat down to wait. Nor did 
she wait long. Evidently Mr. Thompson was expecting 
her, for within half an hour she received a card which 
read, Mr. Jacob Thompson. Inclosed in an envelope ac- 
companying it, was a slip of paper, which Madeleine, ac- 
cording to instructions, adjusted upon the wooden reel, 
and then read, “ Mr. Thompson will call for the bag.” 
Before Madeleine had quite finished her supper, a knock 
came at the door and a tall, elderly gentleman entered in 
response to Madeleine’s “ come in.” 

“ Miss Cateret ? ” he asked interrogatively, approaching 
her, as she arose to receive him. Madeleine bowed, and 
extending her hand she begged Mr. Thompson to be seated. 

“ I need not ask if you have the bag safe, Miss Cateret, 
your manner convinces me I need have no anxiety, al- 
though I assure you, when I learned a lady was intrusted 
with the mission, I had my doubts, confident as I was of 
the doctor’s judgment. It/eemed a most risky thing to 
venture.” 

“ I am glad I can reassure you, Mr. Thompson,” said 
Madeleine, and approaching the bed, she lifted the upper 
mattress, and removing the bag handed it to Mr. Thomp- 
son, whose outstretched hand trembled as he received it. 

“ You will pardon me. Miss Cateret, if I open it in your 
presence,” he remarked, “but I wish to give you a receipt.” 

“Act as you think proper, Mr. Thompson, I deliver it 
to you as I received it from Dr. Maginn, and have only his 
word as to the contents.” Mr. Thompson removed a key 
from his ^pocket hook and opened the hag, and his eyes 
glistened as he saw it filled with packages of “greenbacks.” 


378 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


A simple band of paper surrounded each bundle, there 
were ten, each containing fifty thousand dollars. After 
counting, Mr. Thompson returned them to the bag, and 
sitting down at the table wrote a receipt which he handed 
to Madeleine; at the same time he took her hand. 

“Although I have heard of you often, Miss Cateret, this 
is the first time I have had the pleasure of seeing you. 
All that I have heard — and it has been much, and almost 
beyond belief, of a woman — I now feel to be true. No 
woman to-day, will occupy a higher position than Miss 
Cateret, when once the South acquires her independence. 
In the name of the Confederate Government I thank you. 
Mr. Booth, by the way, is here, and if you wish to return 
to-morrow he will accompany you.” 

All this admiration, which was evidently sincere, was 
exceedingly gratifying to Madeleine, who for the first time 
began to feel that she was a heroine. Mr. Thompson did 
not remain long, but pressing her hand with great warmth, 
he expressed a desire to see her soon again, and then begged 
her to excuse him as he had important business to transact. 
The next day Mr. Booth called, delighted to find her in 
Montreal, and still more to have her for a travelling com- 
panion. The following morning they started for Washing- 
ton, and then Madeleine learned they would be obliged to 
leave Secretary Stanton out of their plans. 

“ It will take too many men, Miss Cateret, and as Secre- 
tary Seward and Mr. Lincoln are more important men, we 
must confine ourselves to them. If successful, they will be 
taken to Richmond, and negotiations will be commenced 
from there.” 

All this was very unsatisfactory for Madeleine to hear. 
Mr. Stanton had humiliated her, and kept her in prison 
for six months; her real hatred was against him, and not 
the President and Mr. Seward who had rather favored her. 
It is doubtful if the bag had ever reached Montreal if she 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 379 

had known this before. Mr. Booth saw her disappoint- 
ment. 

“ Never mind, Miss Cateret, you will get even with him 
yet. If we get the other two, I will undertake to punish 
him to your complete satisfaction.” 

“If you will do that, you will merit my everlasting 
gratitude, Mr. Booth, he is the only man who ever dared 
to use insolence toward me. Punish him for it, and ask 
what you will, I make no conditions,” said Madeleine ex- 
citedly. 

“ I should only be too happy, Miss Cateret, to win your 
approbation to make any demands of you ; only consider 
me at your service, as soon as we have disposed of the 
other two.” As Mr. Booth said this, he threw an admiring 
glance at Madeleine, which she was not slow in returning. 
Through the remainder of the journey they were the best 
of friends, and when they parted at the station, Booth had 
become so demonstrative that Madeleine was obliged to 
check him, an easy thing for her cold nature to do. She 
drove directly to Willard’s, refusing Mr. Booth’s company. 
Booth himself drove to the National, his accustomed stop- 
ping place. As he alighted from the carriage he was 
greeted by a rough-looking, broad-shouldered man, who 
touched his arm and said : 

“ I’m glad you’re back.” 

“ Hello ! Atzeroth, is that you ? ” replied Booth recog- 
nizing him. 

“Yes, it’s I, Mr. Booth. Harold and I want to see you 
to-night, at the old place, will you come ? ” 

“ Come ? of course I will, I have some news for you, too.” 

The “old place,” was a drinking resort frequented by 
sporting characters? gamblers, and the like gentry. When 
Booth made his appearance the place was full. Soldiers 
and sailors, sports and bounty jumpers, actors and gam- 
blers, all fraternized over their liquor. Booth was recog- 


NOT TO THE -SWIFT. 


3 So 

nized by several of his friends but pushed his way through 
without stopping, until he saw Atzeroth and Harold at a 
table in one corner where they had turned up a chair to 
hold a place for him. 

"Well, boys, Fm a little late, how goes it?” was his 
greeting. 

" It don’t go at all, Mr. Booth,” replied Harold despond- 
ently. "You promised us a good thing and plenty of 
money •” 

“Sh” — said Booth, below his breath, "do you wish 
to attract the attention of every one here ? But whis- 
per that word money, and half the place would be on 
our backs. Nothing goes with you fellows but money; 
you can be hired for money, bought for money, sold for 
money. I am sick of the word. You are Southerners, 
have you no wrongs to right, no insults to avenge ? Have 
you no patriotism, no shame ?” 

How long Booth would have gone on with this tirade it 
is impossible to say, when Harold broke in. 

" Oh, say, Mr. Booth, we’re not as bad as all that, but we 
must live ” 

" I don’t see the necessity,” muttered Booth, thoroughly 
out of patience, " but we won’t discuss that matter, here,” 
taking out his pocketbook, and throwing each a fifty-dollar 
bill, " go and stuff yourselves, and when that’s gone, there 
is more where it came from, but don’t always nag me 
about money! ” 

Booth’s insulting manner did not seem to hurt the feel- 
ings of either man. They ordered some more whiskey, 
and were soon in good humor. From this den of iniquity. 
Booth, who was in no mood for drinking, went directly to 
Mrs. Surratt’s, where he was received with open arms by 
Mrs. Surratt, her daughter Kate, a young Catholic priest 
from Georgetown College, and John H. Surratt. On his 
way there, he seemed to have overcome his splenic mood, 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


381 


and was in great spirits. Before leaving, he took Mrs. 
Surratt aside, and told her the attempt would be made the 
first week in November. Within a few days after this, all 
was in readiness. Two closed carriages, one to be stationed 
at the White House, and one at Mr. Seward’s, two men to 
cut the wires, and three men each, to secure the President 
and Mr. Seward, rush them to the carriages, gag them if 
necessary and gallop at full speed to Port Tobacco, whence 
they would be sent to Richmond. Everything had been 
foreseen apparently, only the day remained to be chosen. 

Two days after this, as Booth was walking up the avenue, 
he met Dr. Maginn, who motioned him to follow. Turn- 
ing from the Treasury Building he walked over toward the 
low ground where the monument now stands. Seeing no 
one around he stopped, and allowed Booth to overtake him. 

“ What is the matter, doctor ? You gave me a great 
chase,” called out Booth, as he came up. 

“The matter is, my dear boy, that our plans are ruined. 
Seward left for New York last night, and I find Mr. Lin- 
coln has half a dozen people with him every night consult- 
ing about the election.” 

“ Curse it,” cried Booth, “ everything has been so well 
planned, it seems as though the devil was in it.” 

“ Dear me, no, I hope not,” said the good doctor, cross- 
ing himself at mention of his Satanic majesty. “ But it is 
useless to attempt it now, we must be patient, ‘all things 
come to those who wait!’ Write me at my hotel, but 
always in cipher, mind. I leave for New York to-night.” 

Booth stormed and swore at the check to his plans, all 
of which the doctor listened to patiently, with a pitying 
sort of a smile, as he remarked the impotent wrath of this 
erratic, illy-balanced mind. Booth kicked up the turf, 
picked up a pebble and threw it at a stray duck, and 
finally turning to the doctor, said: 

“Well, what’s to be done now ?” 


3 8 2 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


"Nothing, my dear boy, wait, our time will come; let 
the election pass, we will see what that brings; if McClel- 
lan be elected ” 

" Stuff and nonsense ! McClellan ! he hasn’t the ghost 
of a show.” 

" Very well, the moment election is over we shall be 
ready again. Don’t spare your money, there is plenty of 
it. Tell the boys to keep quiet, and you will notify them. 
Give them plenty to spend, it will keep them content. 
Now I must go, God keep you, my boy. Don’t follow too 
closely,” and shaking hands with Booth the doctor strode 
off. 

" The foul fiend take it,” hissed Booth, as the doctor left 
him. " Why must I always be balked in my endeavors ? 
What will Miss Cateret think of me ? I could kill the man 
who stands in my way. Ye gods!” he exclaimed, as a 
sudden thought struck him. " Why shouldn’t I kill Abra- 
ham Lincoln ? Tyrants have been killed before, for the 
good of the State. Brutus has lived in history. Why 
shall not I?” With folded arms and a proud mien, he 
gazed at the White House in the distance. "It might 
be done, it might be done! How the North would howl; 
but how the South would rejoice, and as for me — 
Angels and ministers of grace defend us, what would 
become of me ? Bah ! I do not set my life at a pin’s fee,” 
and with a snap of his fingers, he followed the doctor. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


3S3 


CHAPTER XLII. 

ITS CULMINATION. 

The Rebellion was at its last gasp. The winter of *64 
was passed impatiently by the Northern armies, just ready 
to administer the coup cle grace , to the expiring Confeder- 
acy. The overtures of the South, for a cessation of hostili- 
ties, were rejected with scorn. All hope had vanished, 
nothing but some supernatural aid could now intervene to 
prevent the final act. Grant was ready to close upon Rich- 
mond, as soon as the weather permitted. Sherman was 
cutting the South in the middle, as he approached the 
Atlantic. Gloom and despair settled upon all Southern 
hearts. As for Madeleine, she was undecided what to do. 
When the cause of the South was a thing to be proud of, 
when Southern independence seemed assured, with eager 
sympathy, and high courage, she confessed her allegiance, 
and scorned the Northern “ mudsills ” who “ rallied around 
the flag.” With the South whipped, discouraged, and 
in articulo mortis , Madeleine was cool, indifferent, and 
sullen. She hated the North, and despised the South for 
being whipped. The heroic sacrifice, the stern and hope- 
less endurance, the matchless courage, and calm despair her 
Southern confreres exhibited, aroused in her heart no 
feeling of pity. No tender sympathy for the heroes of a 
“lost cause,” thrilled the tendrils of her heart as she saw 
the coil tighten around the vitals of the Confederacy. She 
shrugged her shoulders, and flirted desperately with the 
Union Generals who visited Washington. The more hearts 
she broke, the better she was satisfied. Inauguration day 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


384 

approached, and as the preparations went on, Madeleine, 
disgusted and impatient at the triumph of her enemies, 
prepared to return to New York. 

A few days before she carried this resolution into effect, 
while walking down Pennsylvania Avenue, she met Wilkes 
Booth. Almost cordially she extended her hand; here 
was one who hated — as bitterly as she herself — this igno- 
minious defeat. For one moment she thought he was 
about to pass her without speaking. He seemed a changed 
man, his eyes were hollow and sunken, the paleness of his 
face was increased, and to her he seemed almost demented, 
and indeed he was. Constantly brooding over his defeat 
in the abduction scheme, he was hardly in his right mind. 
As they walked side by side, he poured out his woes to 
her, but here he found no consolation. His face brought 
up to her, hopes she had built, which she had seen scat- 
tered; and unable to ease her mind before unionists, of all 
the vituperative spleen lying dormant there, she poured 
out the vials of her wrath upon poor Booth, already loaded 
with self-inflicted pain and reproach. Half dazed and 
wholly confused at her bitterness, and the contempt so 
thinly veiled by the restrictions a street conversation placed 
upon her, he bade her a hasty good-day, and rushed off to 
his room where he was found by Harold — who called to 
see him — sitting upon his bed contemplating a dagger 
which he held in his hands. 

“ Why, Booth, what is the matter ? You look as gloomy 
as if you had seen your father’s ghost,” laughed Harold, 
who had conceived a tremendous affection for Booth. Upon 
this. Booth started up and paced the room, holding the 
dagger in his left hand; then stopping in front of his 
friend he said : 

“ Harold, you don’t know what it is to be taunted, 
laughed at, scorned, by a woman you admire, a beautiful, 
haughty, tempestuous creature, before whom you would 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 385 

seem a god. One who sneers at your protestations, and 
shrugs her shoulders when you divulge your aspirations ; 
who mocks at your ideals, and says ‘prove it/ when you 
assert your patriotism ! Harold, I am desperate ! I swear 
that Abraham Lincoln shall not survive his inauguration ! 
There’s no hope but this, it must come, I will be the 
avenger of the South! Will you join me? It will be a 
glorious deed! Lincoln and Seward, both at one blow. 
They’ll never suspect us of designing that. Payne will 
join, so will Atzeroth, and Arnold. Promise me, Harold, 
do this one thing I ask of you. Life is nothing; if we 
succeed, the North will be demoralized; if we fail” — his 
face grew white and he paused a moment — " if we fail, the 
North will be terrorized, when they see our desperation. 
Promise, Harold, promise! ” But Harold would not prom- 
ise, at least then, and Booth, dashing him away, fled from 
the room. The next day Madeleine received a wild, in- 
coherent letter from him. 

"My Friend: — You scorned and despised me yester- 
day, when I tried to tell you my disappointment. All 
night I have not slept, thinking of your beautiful, but 
stern, relentless face. Give me but a little time and I will 
prove myself no coward, no imbecile. I am the chosen 
one, the fall of my hand shall yet make the nation ring. 
Prepare for a great surprise; the world shall know, the 
world shall hear ! Tell the doctor, if you see him, prepara- 
tions are being made, the day is not distant. Keep me in 
your memory; if I see you again it will not be here! 

"Yours ever, J. Wilkes Booth.” 

When Madeleine read this screed, she was curiously per- 
plexed. " Wa§ Booth projecting something desperate ? 
What was it?” This seemed like assassination; did he 
mean it, or was it merely his boastful spirit ? He was dar- 
2 5 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


386 

ing enough for any undertaking. If she could only see 
the doctor. But the doctor was not in Washington. Bad 
as Madeleine was; selfish, cold, and worldly as her con- 
science was, she was not a murderess. She would not stay 
to see the inauguration; but she made up her mind to one 
thing, she would warn Mr. Lincoln of his danger, there 
would be no harm in that, and— happy thought — it might 
put her in favor with him, when he knew who warned 
him. Warn him she did, and her letter is now on file 
among the State archives. She did not sign it, at least 
with her own name, but the warning was received, and 
partially heeded, for Booth was obliged to delay his de- 
signs. As for Madeleine, she started for New York, re- 
gardless of her father’s expostulations, at the magnificence 
of the spectacle they were losing. 

Inauguration day with all its glorious pageantry, came 
and went. Again Abraham Lincoln was sworn in Presi- 
dent of the United States, the thunder of the cannon had 
ceased, the long procession had dispersed. The wires were 
now conveying the glad news to all parts of the continent. 
Again there was a roaring of cannon, this time in the 
valley, around Richmond, in the West and in the South. 
While all this was going on, a miserable, bent, forlorn 
man was sneaking along the avenue, toward the National 
Hotel. Again thwarted and almost dejected, he crept to 
his room, and there ate out his heart in vain regrets and 
moanings. It is our last look at Wilkes Booth. In a little 
over a month from this date he was a hideous, blackened 
corpse, a foul assassin, and fills an unknown grave. How 
much of his guilt rests upon others, and how much was 
the result of his own wayward nature, only history can 
tell. But when the search does come, probably long years 
from now, and the archives of State are permitted to be 
explored, it will be found that the “ trail of the serpent is 
over it all,” and history will record another instance of 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


337 


the detestable meddling in political affairs of that secret, 
subtle Order, which will never cease, while Governmental 
toleration permits its snake-like head to lift itself unpun- 
ished and unrebuked. The time has come when notice 
must be taken of the Jesuits in America. When attention 
is called to them, they humbly bow their heads and dis- 
claim any intention of interfering in social, political, or 
educational affairs; and yet, before the breath of denial 
has faded away, comes their protest against the use of the 
Bible in schools, and their demand for a division of school 
funds. Hundreds of millions of dollars are held in trust 
by the Order of Jesus in America. Shall we deny the 
vast power these millions represent ? Is it not a fact that 
the free press of this country to-day, handles very tenderly 
all topics relating to Catholic affairs ? Is it not a common 
thing to hear it said: “Do not antagonize the Catholic 
element, or you will lose their votes ? '' Suppose for one 
moment, the edict goes forth, that a certain set of men are 
to be elected to office, and the full power of the Church 
through its priesthood, is exerted in that direction. With 
nine million communicants and their friends, who would 
rule America ? The Vatican. This very question presented 
itself, at the time of the trial, to the Government officers, 
and despite the excitement and tremendous pressure 
brought to bear upon them, one thing was hushed up. 
The fact that the conspirators, or most of them, were 
Catholics. When Mrs. Surratt ascended the scaffold, she 
was supported by two Jesuit priests. When almost in the 
agony of dissolution she uttered these words : 

“ Holy Father, can I not tell these people I am innocent 
of this crime with which I am charged ? ” One responded : 

“ No, my child, the world, and all in it, has now receded 
from you, it will do no good.” 

Whether Mrs. Surratt knew of Payne's design upon 
Secretary Seward's life is doubtful. Payne himself de- 


383 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


dared to General Ilartranft that she did not. But that 
she was cognizant of Booth’s design of kidnapping the 
President and Cabinet officers, is well founded. She was 
not allowed to speak, and the future alone can unravel 
the web of conflicting opinions. 

The first thing Madeleine was aware of, on the morning 
of the 15th of April, was a tap at her door. It was barely 
daylight, as she sprang from her bed and opened the door. 
There stood her father, horror depicted upon every linea- 
ment of his usually inexpressive countenance. 

‘•'Madeleine, it is awful, the President has been assas- 
sinated! I have just heard it on the street. There was 
so much noise I got up to find out what it all meant. The 
policeman on the corner says it is true.” 

The effect upon Madeleine was frightful, she staggered 
back and fell upon the bed, too weak to stand. Her face 
was ashen, and every limb trembled. 

“ Papa, it is not possible; are you sure ? This is only a 
rumor, it can’t be ! ” 

For reply her father hastened to the window and threw 
it open. People were hurrying along the street. He 
called to them, Madeleine meanwhile staggering to the 
window. 

“What is it? what is it?” she screamed. 

“ Lincoln was assassinated last night at Ford’s Theatre 
by Wilkes Booth. Seward and his son are both killed,” 
came back from eager, but blanched lips. 

“Awful ! awful ! Madeleine, is it not ? ” 

But Madeleine was almost oblivious to all sounds. She 
leaned against the window casing, in an agony of terror. 
Gradually her senses returned, and all her benumbed facul- 
ties regained their proper balance. 

“ Papa,” she whispered hurriedly, “ do you know what 
we must do ? We must leave the country, at least I must, 
I know Booth so well, I might be suspected. You must 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


389 

go immediately down-town, and as soon as the steamship 
offices are opened, take passage for me on the first steamer 
that sails, even if it be to-day. It matters not which line. 
Come back as soon as you have done so, I shall be ready. 
Don’t wait, don’t wait, it may be life or death, papa, for 
your daughter.” 

Thus adjured Mr. Cateret dressed himself somewhat 
more completely, and hastened down-town. The first 
steamer to sail was the Persia, strange coincidence, and 
Mr. Cateret secured passage for Madeleine and returned, 
gathering all the news he could by the way. Even his 
jovial spirits were dampened by the terrible catastrophe, 
and Madeleine’s peril, which he only half comprehended. 
By this time Madeleine’s decision had returned, and she 
went about her preparations with great precision. Every 
scrap of paper bearing Booth’s name was destroyed, her 
bank account arranged, and her father’s wants amply pro- 
vided for, by a liberal deposit in his name. It was well 
she had occupation, or her fears would have prostrated 
her. During the day the news was entirely confirmed, and 
report said his accomplices were being sought for. Ko 
sleep that night. The steamer sailed at seven in the morn- 
ing, and more dead than alive, Madeleine drove down to 
the pier. The moment she was on board, she hurried her 
father off to the house to stop all inquiries. A long toot 
of the whistle, the sharp ringing of the bell, the hoarse 
cries of the mates, and the steamer drew away from her 
dock. Then for the first time did Madeleine draw a long 
breath. 


390 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


EPILOGUE. 


One evening, late in the month of May, 1865, a masked 
ball took place at the Opera House in Paris. Among the 
gay crowd of maskers, was one dressed in a Spanish cos- 
tume. He was tall, slender, and of easy carriage. Through 
the fun-loving crowd he made his way, now attracted by 
one mask, and then another, but none seemed to hold him, 
until he observed a tall, graceful figure, attired in a Moor- 
ish costume. Her white veil was twisted around her head, 
disclosing only a pair of brilliant black eyes which seemed 
to follow him at every move he made. Attracted by this 
persistency, he approached and addressed the lady, who 
readily accepted his arm. The conversation of the incog- 
nita, was sprightly and agreeable, and the cavalier lingered 
at her side. A waltz starting up, he seized her around the 
waist, and away they whirled among the giddy throng. 
Soon tiring of this, and wishing to know more about his 
charming partner — for charming he found her to be — al- 
though he had as yet obtained no peep at her face — he led 
the way to where refreshments were served, and begged 
her to order what she desired — perhaps she would unveil — 
he thought. She gave an order in a low voice to the waiter, 
and when he would have ordered, stopped him, she had 
ordered for both, she said. 

When the waiter returned he brought an ice for the lady, 
and a plate containing a single peach was placed before 
the cavalier, Upon seeing it, lie started, reached out, and 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 39 1 

caught the lady by the arm. “ Madame, who are you ? 
What does this mean ? Tell me instantly.” 

The lady removed his hand from her arm, and leaning 
toward him, said in English : 

“J ohn H. Surratt, you are known, and must leave Paris 
within three days. If you are here after that, I shall feel 
at liberty to denounce you. Pay heed to my warning! ” 

Surratt, for it was he, heard these words with dismay, 
he seemed paralyzed, and his head fell upon the table 
before him; then looking toward the unknown entreat- 
ingly, he murmured : 

“ Have pity, do not betray me, I know not who you are, 
but do not be so cruel ! I know nothing about that crime ! 
Booth never told me what he designed doing. I am inno- 
cent ! ” 

“ You must leave the city, Mr. Surratt, there is no al- 
ternative,” his companion said calmly. “Go to Rome, 
there you will find friends. Take this ring, send it to the 
General of the Jesuits, he will put you in a place of safety.” 

Surratt took the ring mechanically. Both arose, and the 
lady begged him to precede her toward the dressing room, 
which he did; but when he turned, his companion had 
disappeared. She had slipped out of a side door. Secur- 
ing the first carriage at hand, and giving an order, she 
sank back on the seat and removed her veil, disclosing the 
features of Madeleine Cateret. 

“ I am sure he will go,” she murmured half aloud, “ it 
wouldn’t do to have them looking around Paris. They 
might run on to me, and remember that I, too, knew Mr. 
Booth. No, that would not do.” 

Madeleine had made herself very comfortable in Paris. 
She had rented luxurious apartments in the Rue du Fau- 
bourg de St. Honore, recently vacated by a Russian prince. 
The entire menage was retained by her, even to the maitre 
d’hotel, a majestic personage, whom papa Cateret would 


392 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


have been delighted to have had address him as “ Milord 
Cateret.” Certainly nothing could have been more satis- 
factory than Madeleine’s condition at the present time 
when that evening a freak caused her to go to that masked 
ball. She saw Surratt as he came in ; his mask being dis- 
arranged he lowered it a moment, and then replaced it, 
but too late to prevent the recognition. The exhibition 
of a peach had been one of the ways the conspirators had 
selected, to warn each other. She wished Surratt out of 
Paris. Too selfish to think of anything but herself, she 
determined to frighten him away, without disclosing her 
identity, otherwise he would laugh at her. She was as 
deep in the mire as he. Her plan worked nicely, for J ohn 
Surratt left Paris the next day, and fled to Rome, where 
the ring procured him admission to the papal guard where 
he was afterward caught. Certainly everything prospered 
with Madeleine. Received at the American Legation with 
great honor, introduced to all the notables who visited the 
Legation balls; presented to the Empress by the Minister 
himself, as “ one of our beautiful American girls.” Patron- 
ized by the Minister’s wife — an eccentric creature, with 
much ability — who liked a bevy of fresh pretty girls around 
her as much that they were in marked contrast to her own 
personality, as because they brought the swell of the Jiaui 
monde to her receptions. What more could Madeleine 
ask ? Seemingly nothing, and yet she was restless. She 
plunged into all the gayeties and frivolities of the season, 
in the gayest city in the world. The Emperor himself 
— so soon to fall — liked nothing better than a chat with 
“ la belle Americaine.” Surely “ the way of the transgressor ” 
is not hard, but most attractive. 

One October aternoon Madeleine was bowling along the 
boulevard toward the “ Bois,” behind a pair of high-step- 
ping French coach horses, driven by the nattiest of coach- 
men, The day was fine, the air crisp, and all Paris was 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


393 


on the Boulevards. Madeleine leaned back in her luxuri- 
ous, satin-lined Victoria, and drew her costly furs around 
her closely, while she inhaled the keen air in deep breaths. 
Beautiful animal that she was, she experienced a sense of 
extreme delight. First, because her horses, her coachman, 
her carriage, and her dress, she knew to be perfect. Second, 
because at every inhalation, her warm glowing blood was 
propelled from her head to her feet, without a sensation of 
pain or annoyance. Organs she had none, at least none 
of which she was conscious. Sleek and beautiful as a Ben- 
gal tiger, she resembled that animal after he has had a full 
meal. She was playful. There being no occasion to ex- 
hibit her tigerish instincts, she was charming. No human 
being is proof against such a creature at such a moment. 
They are simply resistless, and woe to him who falls under 
the power of their seductions. The carriage rolled along 
and Madeleine nodded pleasantly as they passed other 
vehicles containing acquaintances. Many looked after and 
wondered who she was. Just about the entrance of the 
Bois, coming toward her, but on foot, Madeleine noticed 
suddenly a face and figure which interested her; she leaned 
half forward, and then calling softly to the driver, she di- 
rected him to pull up at the curb, “ near the gentleman 
walking alone.” The gentleman whose presence so inter- 
ested her, wore the garb of a priest. His hands were 
clasped behind his back, and he seemed in deep medita- 
tion. As the carriage drew up, he raised his head, and saw 
Madeleine, he paused a moment apparently surprised and 
a faint flush suffused his pale countenance; in fact he 
came very near blushing. Once or twice before in this 
man’s life the same phenomenon had occurred, but the in- 
tervals were so great, that it was almost like disuse of a 
function; there was a struggle before the fine capillaries 
filled, and the engorgement was transient. A smile broke 
over Madeleine’s face, “My dear Father Laujac, it is 


394 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


Father Laujac after all.” None but the initiated would 
have understood Madeleine’s remark. Then came that 
ephemeral blush. 

“ My dear Miss Cateret, is it indeed you ? When I 
started out on my walk this afternoon I hardly anticipated 
this pleasure. Where did you drop from ? ” While say- 
ing this, Father Laujac had approached the carriage, and 
taken Madeleine’s hand, which he pressed warmly. 

“ I dropped from nowhere,” replied Madeleine, in re- 
sponse to Father Lau jac’s remark. “ I have been in Paris 
for six months; hut, come, my friend, we must not chat 
here, take your seat beside me, I have much to ask, and 
many things to tell you.” 

Nothing loth. Father Laujac complied with Madeleine’s 
request, and entered the carriage. As he did so, many things 
passed through his fertile brain. She had not apparently 
resented the abominable trick he had played upon her, 
otherwise, why had she met him so cordially ? Fortunately 
for him, her mood was what it was, a post-prandial one. 
“I must win her confidence again, the game is never out, 
until it is played out ! ” he reflected. 

He was hardly seated, when Madeleine turned upon him 
a pair of roguish eyes. 

“My dear Father,” she said, speaking in English, “do 
not think I mean to reproach you for the very unpriestly 
attack you made upon my heart in New York. I am not • 
vindictive, you see. Since I saw you last, I have passed 
through much, too much to harbor resentment. I am not 
going to ask you why you masqueraded as you did. I am, 
on the contrary, rather disposed to feel honored, at the 
compliment paid me, even though it might he called an 
equivocal one.” 

Father Laujac writhed a little inwardly, but outwardly 
he was as placid and unmoved as if he had only been lis- 
tening to the scarification of some dear friend’s character, 
by her caustic tongue. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


395 


“ My dear Miss Cateret, I will be frank and open with 
you. I am a Jesuit. The great purposes of our Order 
often compel subterfuges — tricks, if you will— which can- 
not be explained, and we must suffer the obloquy incurred 
in the prosecution of our object. Such a position was mine 
in New York. My mission was the selection of certain 
people, high in social position, who should be deemed 
worthy to be put in communication with His Holiness, to 
receive his instructions and keep him informed of events 
which might be prejudicial to the Church in America. 
You were one of those chosen. In order to maintain my 
position near you, as I had thrown off, temporarily, my 
priestly vestments, I chose to play the part of a lover, 
which gave me greater privileges” — glancing slyly at 
Madeleine — “ and enabled me to ascertain if you were a 
proper person to be intrusted with a commission, which 
only those of marked ability could be invested with. When 
I sailed for Europe upon a peremptory summons from the 
Vatican, your name was presented to the Holy See, and 
had your imprisonment not taken place, you would have 
received a personal communication from His Holiness. 
And now, my dear child” — dropping purposely into a 
fatherly tone — “I trust you will hold me excused for this 
trifling deception.” 

“ Most certainly, my dear Father,” replied Madeleine 
laughing; “ since my heart was not badly wrenched, I can 
afford to forgive you.” Whether Madeleine accepted the 
explanation sincerely or not, it suited her to pretend so. 
She had no objection to having a priest in her train, least 
of all, would she have alienated one with Father Laujac’s 
talents. No, she would be friendly. What did it matter ? 
She tried to use him, and he, her, they were quits. “ What 
do you hear from our old friend, the doctor?” inquired she. 

“ Oh, the doctor; he went to Canada for his health, after 
the assassination, but I hear he is back in New York.” 


39 6 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


" Interesting himself in the affairs of the ‘ reconstructed 
South/ perhaps,” suggested Madeleine. 

"Indeed you are quite right, he was one of a commission 
and appointed by President Johnson to proceed South and 
inquire into their troubles. A very versatile man, the 
doctor.” 

"Very. I can see him now, deploring the war, and ad- 
vising conciliation; smoothing down the asperities which 
the contest generated, and predicting a great future for the 
reunited country. Yes, the doctor is a wonderfully versa- 
tile man. The f sweetness and light/ which he diffuses 
among the Philistines, is remarkable. He reminds me of 
a glow-worm, he shines unexpectedly and delightfully, but 
the warmth is missing. IPs cheerful, only it fades quickly. 
Well, for what we have of it, let us be thankful,” and heav- 
ing a great sigh, Madeleine darted a quick glance toward 
Father Laujac. 

" I am afraid, my child, you are inclined to be cynical. 
The doctor has great talents in adaptability. The spir- 
itual welfare of mankind is really the ultimate end. f Many 
men have many minds/ and not all are to be approached 
in the same way. The methods of salvation are numerous. 
‘Ambition/ says Escobar, ‘ is only a venial sin/ the appetite 
for place and power becomes mortal when done to injure 
the commonwealth, or where directed toward God. The 
desire to lead is meritorious, the means, sometimes debas- 
ing, but when all is for the greater glory of God, we must 
condone the method.” The Jesuit paused. 

" Thank you. Father, for the homily, it was exceedingly 
entertaining, and I shall profit by it. Where shall I put 
you down, by the way ? ” 

"Almost anywhere,” replied the Jesuit sweetly. 

"Pull up here, Jean, Father Laujac wishes to alight,” 
said Madeleine to the coachman. This abruptness was in- 
tentional, a little brusque treatment would do him good, 
she thought. 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 39^ 

“Do come and see me, Father, soon,” said Madeleine 
persuasively as he alighted. 

“May I bring a friend along. Miss Madeleine?” he 
asked very submissively. 

“ Certainly, any friend of yours will be welcome. Addio.” 

After Madeleine drove away Father Laujac examined 
the inside of the palm of his left hand. The print of each 
finger nail w r as there. He rubbed it with his right hand 
briskly. Every sentence of Madeleine had driven the 
nails deeper and deeper — but they remained friends. 
“ The race is not to the swift,” was all he said to himself. 

When the next week he called he brought with him the 
friend he had mentioned, Baron Yon Brinkmann, a tall, 
grave German of ancient lineage, and enormous wealth, 
lie was a man ten years older than Madeleine, a widower, 
but without children. Baron Von Brinkmann was a Ba- 
varian, and an intimate friend of the Grand Duke of Baden 
in whose suite he served. He was not a handsome man. 
His face was scarred with the frequent student duels he 
had fought in his younger days, but there was an air of 
manly superiority about him which went far to make up 
for the want of mere pink and white prettiness. From 
the moment they met they became firm friends. Made- 
leine’s grand style of beauty, now in its zenith, caught the 
rugged warrior’s heart, and as for Madeleine, he was noble, 
rich, and in high position at Court. She made up her 
mind to accept him if he proposed, which he shortly did. 
There was no great delay about the wedding, which was 
celebrated at Notre Dame. In the terms of settlement, 
Madeleine retained all her own wealth, and the baron set- 
tled upon her a palace at Berlin and a grand mansion at 
Wiesbaden. Here was youth, wealth, beauty, and manhood 
united. A long, happy life was predicted for them. Alas! 
the gods dispose. 

Another wedding, or rather a double wedding, took place 


NOT TO THE SWIFF. 


39^ 

about this time in New York. Among the guests were 
Mr. and Mrs. Bernhard. Mr. Bernhard was now wealthy 
again, and about to retire from business. Mr. Cateret, 
also was there, agreeable, jovial, and kindly, as of old, a 
little given to boasting of his strikes on the Board, but 
inoffensive. Major and Mrs. Duck, were there, of the firm 
of Richmond & Duck. He, a large, broad-shouldered, manly 
man, she, gentle, sweet, and a worshipper of her big hus- 
band. Mr. Davie Duck was there, now the leader of Niblo’s 
Garden Orchestra. Last of all was the good Dr. Maginn, 
looking no older than when we last saw him, and beaming 
all over with good nature. His hearty ha! ha! ha! and 
his rich mellow brogue, made him the life of the company 
until the contracting couples came in. Hugo and Grace, 
Harry and Doris. What shall I say of these redeeming 
characters of our story ? They, at least, have not disap- 
pointed us. Hugo, now General Bernhard — for promotion 
came rapidly after Port Hudson — has resumed his paint- 
ing, and his grand historical picture will shortly be hung 
in the Academy. Grace, as beautiful, impressionable,- and 
changeable as of yore, flirts with him all the way down the 
broad stairway, regardless of the number of eyes resting 
upon her. 

“ Aren’t you glad my horse ran away, Hugo, say, aren’t 
you now ? ” 

“ Sh, you little tease, I almost believe you made him.” 

“ Hugo, I’ll stop right here, if you say that. Remember 
we are not married yet,” murmured the irrepressible Grace. 
Behind them appear Harry, now Colonel Richmond, and 
Doris, he proud and happy, she womanly and dignified. 
The ceremony is soon over, and the reception begins. 
From the Governor of the State down, civilian and soldier 
come to honor the brave officers, and admire the two beau- 
tiful girls they have chosen as their brides. When later 
in the evening the time for departure comes — for they are 


NOT TO THE SWIFT. 


399 


about to take a trip through the Southern battle fields — 
Dr. Maginn stands on the stoop and showers them with 
rice. 

-“What a kind-hearted fellow the doctor is,” said Hugo, 
as they were all seated in the carriage, and about to start. 

“ Hugo, you are a great big stupid,” was all the answer 
Grace vouchsafed. How this girl divined the doctor’s na- 
ture! Five years more have elapsed. Hugo and Grace, 
with their little daughter are travelling in Europe. It is 
the night of a gala performance at the Grand Opera House 
in Berlin. The old Emperor has taken his seat. Grace’s 
attention is attracted toward a box near the Emperor’s. 

“ Look ! Hugo, look, in that box.” 

“ Isn’t she a beauty ? ” broke in the friend who accom- 
panied them. “That is the Baroness Yon Brinkmann; 
they say he idolizes her.” 

“ Poor Baron,” was all Grace said in reply. 


THE END. 




























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